


Too many walls, not enough bridges

by ff_fan



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 19th Century, Courage, Death, Family Angst, Family Drama, Fear, Friendship, Guilt, Historical References, Homosexuality, Hope, Kindness, Love Story, M/M, Minor Character Death, Opium Wars, Racism, Sexual Content, Step-parents, Step-siblings, era specific opinions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:08:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6742114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ff_fan/pseuds/ff_fan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the height of the British Empire a gifted Engineer and his son have made a life for themselves. Experimenting and building, at the forefront of the technological boom of the mid 1800s Quinn 'Q' Boothroyd is quite content in that life, until he father announces his engagement. Q's now concerned for his elderly father as they prepare to welcome his new Mother and step sisters into their lives. Meeting a dashing captain and his friends awakens Q to the truth he is not like most men. As Q comes to terms with himself, things take a dark turn as the truth is exposed. Will James be able to find the captivating boy again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Severine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit different. I wanted to explore something more emotional than plot driven. It started as a retelling of Cinderella and then changed a bit. Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Again Dragon_Fire has taken the time to proofread this and I would like to thank her for the time and effort involved. 
> 
> Update scheduled will be quick. At least daily. I'm wanting the nine chapter up in about a week.

Quinn 'Q' Boothroyd stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the country house of his father. Geoffrey Boothroyd was an old man even when Q had been born. He’d given most of his life for first, King then Queen and always country. For the child of an uneducated tenant farmer, he rose to the rank of Major and was the greatest engineer the British army had ever seen.

Officially retiring at the age of fifty with an amassed wealth and no wife or family, even to the youngest he was a viable prospect. Q couldn’t even dream of remembering his mother as a twenty year old woman, his father told him of her from their brief marriage. Her long dark hair, delicate body and joyful and teasing green eyes attracted him first but one of the main reasons his father had chosen her was for her ability to read and her hidden intelligence. Sometimes his father would look at him and remark on their similarity. She’d died hours after his birth.

Fifteen years on and Q thought he and his father were happy. Q loved nothing more than to be with his father in the shed, 'shed' being a joke of his father's. Where most built summerhouses his father built a large cavernous space of a workshop where they were experimenting with steam engines and electricity, anything that took their interest. His father even had railway tracks laid so they could experiment. There had been a great argument between his father and Mr Brunel when his father supported the narrower gauge becoming standard over Mr Brunel's, they never spoke again.

His father had spared no expense. Q never went to school, his father not liking the boarding schools most favoured. 'A son should learn from his father' and where his father couldn't teach the best tutors were brought in. Together they had amassed the best technical library in private hands including periodicals, papers and books covering mathematics, engineering and science. Guests came from all over to see it and even talk with them.

Q was starting to build his own reputation. He had designed and built rocket launchers and rifles. He read what the Navy (not technically the Navy as no one took responsibility for the ship he and his father designed) published about the Nemesis, how it decimated all before it, securing the British, Hong Kong. Q felt a hollow pit in his stomach for his part in the affair.

A carriage pulled into the long compacted gravel drive. Q recognised his father's simple carriage of dark wood enclosed with windows, protecting the travellers from the elements. The exposed driver wasn't so lucky, only wrapped up in thick cloak and hat, he was little more than a dark mound on the front. The two horses were typical of his father, one brown the other a mixed shade of greys and both mottled and ugly. By temperament and physique they were good horses they just weren't pretty.

A few weeks ago his Father attended a county ball hosted by Sir William who’d worked with his father. When the invitation arrived, his father couldn't refuse. He returned and announced he had met a pleasant woman and seemed eager for him to have siblings. It seemed that he’d be immediately getting two stepsisters.

The coach rounded the fountain to stop in front of them. Q could see two young women sitting with their backs to the driver and looking down on him with pinched superior expressions. The closest had pale skin, long black hair and dark brown eyes. The one further inside looked to be from far afield, her skin luscious and deep as caramelised sugar, her hair wiry and her eyes a light brown.

A footman in the tailed livery of his father's house opened the carriage door. Q watched his father's unsure footsteps as he approached extending his hand. A white glove appeared from whoever was sitting on the back seat. The woman was younger than Q expected. Skin darker, somewhere between her two daughters, perhaps Mediterranean. Black hair shining and worn up. Her long dress a deep red and trimmed in white lace made of flowing silk and velvet. 

Q looked at his father as he helped the much younger woman down. His white stockings, breeches, long waistcoat and short jacket were of a good quality but lacking even the slight adornment of Q's. No silk or an expensive material to be seen but practical wool and cotton. His head almost bald of its long white hair. His once impressive 6' 2” now stooped and hunched. While the woman to be his stepmother seemed tall and regal in comparison.

Turning to him his father extended his arm. “Quinn, my son. Quinn this is my Fiancée, Severine your future stepmother.” 

Q stepped forward giving a nodding bow to the woman, “Pleasure to meet you.”

Closing the distance she pulled Q into a hug, keeping an arm around him. “We will be family soon. I’ll be your mother.” 

“Mother,” Q amended looking up to the woman playing nice for his father's sake rather than the woman who put him on edge.

Still with an arm around him Q looked from the person who would soon marry his father to the two teenagers exiting the coach. Both accepted his father's hand as they stepped down.

Indicating the darker skinned girl about the same age as himself Severine made the introductions, “Evelyn likes to be called Eve. The daughter from my first marriage to a Nubian prince. Quite the scandal. Alas when he took some English explorers out hunting they were charged by a lion.”

Indicating the other daughter, “Vesper from my second marriage to the Duke of Venice.”

Q had heard of his death. The title having to pass to some cousin as there was no male heir. Q nodded to both daughters. “A pleasure to meet you as well.” 

Looking to her future husband. “Another quiet charmer,” she teased and his father laughed and agreed. 

“Why don't you show your future mother in,” Geoffrey encouraged.

“Of course,” Q responded. Still with the firm arm around his waist Q led his mother inside. His father took the arms of his future daughters.

Leading his mother up the steps to the butler holding the door open Severine started talking fairly loudly, “You should know Eve and Vesper have been quite spoiled. You must not hesitate to stand up to them. I know all their tricks.” 

“Mummy,” both girls whined.

“Quinn is not used to the fairer sex. We have been living as bachelors for some time,” Geoffrey called.

“That’s why I'm warning the boy,” Severine said over her shoulder. 

They entered the drawing room decorated in dark practical furniture. The small fire warmed the room after standing in the mid morning chill. There was a tea laid out and waiting, a footman held a plate of sandwiches. Severine pulled Q down beside her on the small settee. His father was between the two girls on the other. 

“Yes the place dose look in desperate need of a woman's touch,” Severine mused looking around the room. The closest thing that came to decoration were the framed technical drawings of inventions and refinements that had been hung on the walls.

After they’d left Q walked out the back door. There was a lake in the distance with the shed to the left. The pale compacted gravel path was well maintained, leading to the shed and all around the house and stables. His father was lying down after the visit, his future mother pressed a kiss to his cheek and climbed back into the carriage. Q too then got a kiss, she was so nice and pleasant it put him on edge.

Getting closer to the shed Q had to step over the tracks that crossed the path. The lake was getting bigger. Where there had once been a boat house, the shed now incorporated it. It was a functional brick built building with high roof. Tracks led to the big double doors at the front. The back built directly into the lake, so they could build and launch small boats.

The footpath split, one to the main doors the other led to a wrought iron and glass conservatory. It was a dome shaped structure on the side of the shed where Q and his father designed their inventions. Unlocking the door he stepped into the brightly lit room where large tables, sloping design tables and two desks stood. Models were sitting on any unused surface.

Going to the small stove Q struck a match and lit the fire, blowing on the old news paper it caught setting fire to the kindling then the larger sticks. He put on some coal and closed the door.

When the small stove started to heat the room Q sat a kettle on top and prepared the teapot. He held the rounded spoonful of dried leaves, he loved his tea but so many people died to continue its supply to the British Empire.

Looking across the room there was the model which marked his part in those deaths. A hybrid steam and sail ship with two big paddle wheels either side of it. The pivot mounted guns and rocket launchers he designed mounted on deck. In a fit of guilt he removed the kettle from the heat no longer wanting the tea.

Q sat at his sloped drawing table and pulled out a new sheet of paper. He liked ships but didn't like what they were used for. He knew the paddles weren’t a good design being an easy target to cripple the ship when someone could fire back. A damaged paddle in the water would cause drag if they then used their sails to manoeuvre. 

Picking up the winged Sycamore seed pod Q spun it between his fingers. He’d watched several spinning as they fell to the ground. It was the speed they fell that made Q think. There was something about the shape and rotation that made them fall slowly. With it not being allowed to fall, spinning it he could feel the movement of air, barely noticeable but it was there.

From his pocket Q pulled out a pair of small oval glasses, attached to one side was a cored which he put round his neck. Sitting the Pince-nez on the bridge of his nose and making sure the legless glasses were in position Q started by drawing the seed pod. He was experienced enough to know the long V shaped wings wouldn't be very strong. Continuing Q refined the drawing into a plan, something he could build and experiment with.

Q moved from the lab to the workshop of the shed. The front area near the big double doors was mostly empty. The back which opened onto the lake had a launch. It would be a steam driven boat with paddles either side. When finished it would be an ornate luxury toy for some Admiral or other though at the moment it was just a skeleton. The engine, firebox and boiler were in place with the frame and ribs being slowly built around it.

Discarding his restrictive clothes Q stood in his under shirt and breeches, his shirt, waistcoat and jacket left in the conservatory. Q cursed his eyes and the Pince-nez glasses as they slipped during the manual work. Again he made a mental note to improve the glasses and already regretted he hadn’t done it the last time he’d made the mental note or the times before that.

The vice held a piece of wood he planed down to make a wing of his prototype. Opening the vice Q measured how much wood he’d taken off making sure he had the same curving twist the seed pod had.

“So?”

Jumping Q spun to see his father sitting on a stool just inside the workshop. It looked like he had been there for some time waiting for a safe moment to disturb him. “So? Father,” Q said taking the glasses from his nose and letting them hang from the cord around his neck.

“Severine, my boy. Severine,” Geoffrey prompted his sagging face happy and hopeful.

Q smiled. “She is a charming woman, quite agreeable,” he said rather formally and stiffly. He saw the hurt look on his father's face. Q quickly adding, “It's just a big change. From my point of view it’s been us forever. She does seem nice and if she makes you happy she’ll have my support.”

The hurt look melted and became his father's normal reassuring self. “It’s been us for too long, you need a mother to worry over you and your prospects and wanting grandchildren. Left to your own devices I doubt you’d leave this building.” 

Q gave a hesitant smile. Of the few women he’d dealt with they were all jabbering harpies. There was Mrs Bennett and her daughters. Amongst them a stroppy second eldest, spoilt youngest and the smart one his father tried to push him towards. Luckily she was about six years older than him and at the time the age difference was very noticeable. When he said he wasn't interested Mrs Bennett agreed trying to steer him towards her youngest (the spoilt one). A tall, young officer came up to her looking resplendent in his crimson uniform, Q felt embarrassed, small and plain in his presence and scuttled away.

The few other social occasions where he mingled with women were just the same. He didn't like the assertive ones that stalked him like a snake. Whenever he turned they would always be in his eye line. They made him feel trapped and would sometimes cling to him talking quickly, leaning in close and giggling at some faux pas that someone did but didn't understand. Gossiping too, he didn't know who they were talking about and couldn't care if Mr Something-or-other was stepping out with Miss someone-else or that, Mr Something-or-other had a title and was worth £15000 a year. Then there were the ones he had to be the active participant with and they ended in awkward silences.

Why his father couldn't let him be a recluse Q couldn't understand. He was bringing in his own income now. It was the Boothroyd name that did it but his work was good and it was enough. He even had a little saved. 

“What are you trying to build?” Geoffrey asked looking over the first wing Q had planed into to a rough shape. He gave his father a rundown on his idea of a better way to propel a ship in the water. 

“Well supper is served,” Geoffrey said patting his son. Supporting his father they walked back to the house. 

Early in the morning Q went to the stable. From the driver he found out were Severine was staying. Saddling his favourite grey and black mottled mare he mounted, closing up the heavy leather coat and pulling the wide brimmed hat on securely. There was no rush and with the morning turning out brighter and dryer than expected Q enjoyed the ride to the village a few miles away.

He first passed through the local village, Wall. It was quite big and unique with several streets. Leather workers, carpenters and smiths had sprung up to support his father's workshop. Rare outside a city there was also a glass works. Those who lived here worked in the village or his father's workshop. Those who worked the lands were more spread out only coming to the village on market days to trade.

“YooHoo!”

Q looked to the chubby girl in a rolling dress like an over decorated cake. Matilda the vicar's daughter waved but Q didn't stop. She was the one who latched onto his arm, giggling and gossiping. From his daughter, Matilda's father was of the impression they would surely be engaged. 

Following the road to the next village the fields laid empty from the autumn harvest. Forests in the distance stood to the far right and lakes in the distance to the left. His home and the shed looked like red and grey lumps against the green from the slightly elevated road. 

Candleford, Q hand never really been here before. He’d passed through many times but never stopped. It was little more than a single street, the buildings were more run down and the streets less well cared for. While the village of Wall was built using stone and brick, here the buildings were still wood framed with hay and lime plaster.

He pulled up at what once would have been an impressive Tudor inn. The exposed beams starting to rot, clay walls long having lost their whiteness were now dull and crumbling. A few patches of token repairs had been made. The thatched roof looked decent enough, probably because most of the cottages in the area were thatch as well so was easier to maintain.

Tying his horse to a tree because there was no obvious stable Q headed for the inn, jumping out the way as a woman stumbled out. A burly man with missing teeth and a big round head had an arm around her. The woman flung her arms high and the bodice slipped exposing her full breast, the man grabbed it laughing. The woman slapped him and laughed as well. “Cheeky bugger!” 

“You want some boy? Fair price,” the man grumbled. Q could only shake his head.

“Oh leave him alone, the only tit he’s seen is the one he drank from,” The woman teased and shook her exposed breast at Q.

Ducking is head Q darted into the inn. He wanted to freeze, the inside was worse than what happened outside. Men getting drunk, the woman mostly in some state of undress, one with her skirt pulled up and sitting in the lap of a man. Singing and fights echoed from different people in the room. 

“Come to become a man,” a little round woman said. Her bodice barely held in her massive breasts as she carried a tray of pewter tankards.

Shaking his head, “Madam Silva?” Q said.

A sneer came to the round red face of the woman. With a sharp gesture to a door on the balcony above them, “Tell her majesty if she hasn't paid by tonight she can start taking customers.”

Q moved quickly to the stairs climbing them and looking down on the bar below. The view was worse than at ground level. He saw a face he recognised then a few more. One worked in his father's workshop a good metal worker, another cared for the grounds around their house.

Knocking on the door indicated by the barmaid it opened and Severine stood there, a poker not so well concealed behind her. There was a moment of fear before she covered it in a soft smile. “Quinn, do come in,” she said standing back.

The room was small for three with a large bed. Q averted his eyes not sure of the protocol when in a woman's bedroom, or when that bedroom was at an inn and shared by her two daughters. The daughters were glaring at him.

Three dresses from their visit yesterday were hanging up. Severine wore a simple long black dress whilst her two daughters wore rather plain skirts and blouses. The skirts a dull cream colour and the blouses once white now looked grey. 

“I'm sorry for... we did not know what this place was like. It is quite distressing,” Severine said in poised and controlled tones. 

Q didn't buy it. Their best clothing was hanging up and Severine looked like she was wearing a mourning dress well after she should be over the death of her husband. The daughters looked more like maids, only missing the apron and small white cap. They were sharing a room and not for safety and were close to outstaying their welcome.

“Are you destitute?” Q asked his would be stepmother.

Vesper snapped, “Impertinent little oaf!” She bowed her head and sat back down. Q looked back to Severine beside him, whatever she did to get her daughter to shut up he missed it. She gave him a warm smile.

“You are quite right, after the death of Raoul we were left with nothing,” Severine said. 

“My father?” Q prompted. 

Q heard one of the daughters about to speak again. This time he caught sight of the hard warning look. Severine stood tall with her hands clasped in front of her, every bit the poised lady even in the middle of this place and with nothing to her name.

“I blindly followed my heart twice...” Q saw Severine cast a concerned eye to her daughters quickly, then dropped what she was about to say. “I am looking for a kind safe home for myself and daughters. All I can offer in return is a woman's presence. For your father that is companionship, for you the experience of a mother.”

“It helps he is old and infirm,” Q shot.

There was a smile and shake of the head. Severine reached up and cupped his cheek. “Silly boy unless he makes a change to his will he can leave me as poor as my past husbands. Like my last husband's cousin, you could throw us out with only the clothes on our back,” Severine said and indicated the three dresses hanging up. 

'At least she is an honest gold digger' Q thought. “If you hurt my father I will not hesitate to do just that,” Q warned.

“I will not hurt Geoffrey,” Severine insisted.

Q nodded and looked round the cold and dark room. The faint sounds of the entertainment beyond the door and the poker sitting by the door, at the ready to welcome an intruder. “You can’t stay here. You can take rooms at the inn in Wall as my guests,” Q insisted.

Severine was about to say something but Q headed her off. “I’ll settle the bill here.” 

“Thank you. You are as kind and honourable as your father,” Severine said and a quick glance to her daughters had them parroting thanks as well.

Instructing them to pack Q would go back, arrange lodgings and send the carriage to pick them up. Heading out of the room and downstairs Q pulled out a small purse, finding the red faced barmaid he pulled open the string and emptied the coins out. “I trust Madam Silva's bill is settled,” Q said in a hard and uncompromising tone. 

The barmaid still tried to haggle. “Oh sir, there is room, board, food for three...”

“You failed to take into account the lewdness, debauchery and the cost of my blind eye,” Q shot back. The round red face got redder as Q stood looking down his nose, with all the contempt he had for her and this disgusting place, where the stale smell of alcohol mixed with piss and the horrible smell coming from the kitchens. 

She stomped off grumbling. “Bloody hoity-toity little shit.” 

Q shook his head and stepped outside taking in the fresh air. Only birdsong broke the silence. Climbing his horse Q headed back to Wall faster than he came. The inn was the second oldest building in the village after the church. Like the church it was built of mortared stones of different sizes with a grey slate roof. The rooms were smaller than the Inn he’d just come from but they were cleaner and there was no drunken fornication in the main hall.

The little old lady was in a flap scuttling about, fussing and fretting. “Oh hello dear,” the little woman said. She was tiny and slim, even with the bulky dress and apron she was still slim.

“Mrs Hudson,” Q greeted, “I need rooms for my father's fiancée and her two daughters. Make sure I get the bill.”

“Oh yes dear, I'll prepare my best rooms,” Mrs Hudson assured. 

Q heard the little old woman shouting for a maid as he left. Arriving back home he told the driver to go collect Severine. He watched the man prepare the carriage and called to him, “I have settled their bill and if that fat troll demands so much as a farthing more tell her I shall call the magistrate and he can decide if the bill was settled or not.” 

The older man chuckled darkly. “Many a man will curse you if you put Mrs Arlass out of business,” the driver said. “Not me of course young sir. My days of frequenting places like that are long since past.” 

With everything arranged Q headed for the shed. In the workshop Q filled a tin tub, his prototype thing (he hadn't named it) beside him. It looked a bit like a wooden wing nut about five inches from wing tip to wing tip and about six inches long. The two wings connected to a circular piece of wood with a dowel rod in it so he could spin it. The wood wasn’t properly sealed and hastily made. 

Submerging it in the tub Q turned the device. There was a bit of a push from the spinning of the blades. Using both hands he grasped the rod and tried to keep it spinning feeling the water being pushed. 

Pulling it out Q looked at the device slowly turning it. Immediately he though the hub disc was too big, blocking the flow of water. “Perhaps the angle of the blades needs to be altered,” he spoke to himself.

“Perhaps. Have you ever seen the boat races, the way the rowers move the oars or considered your mounting point may be impeding the flow of water.” 

Again Q jumped at his father's sudden voice. Looking behind him his father sat on a stool just watching him. He leaned forward with an outstretched arm and Q placed the device in his father's grasp. The thick old fingers span the device studying it. “Have you ever seen an Archimedes screw?”

Thinking back Q vaguely remembered something about The Hanging Gardens of Babylon and copper cylinders. “Inside there was a helical spiral that would push water up as they spun,” Q mused. Remembering another key quote from ballistics. 'For every reaction there is an equal and opposite reaction'. If an Archimedes screw was fixed in place it pushed water up. If what the screw was attached to wasn't fixed in place, perhaps it could be used to push something along.

Q looked up at his father and there was a smile playing on his lips. He handed back the prototype. “I'm told you convinced your future stepmother to abandon Mrs Arlass' fine establishment. I had hoped your first visit there would be to sample her wares.”

“You knew she was there and what that place is,” Q said shocked.

His father chuckled, shaking his head. “Now you have been to Mrs Arlass'. There isn't a man or boy in thirty miles that doesn’t know about it,” Geoffrey said with a chuckle.

Q shook his head. That inn was a disgusting, smelly pit of sin. And here was his father talking about it like it was an open secret. “Do you know about Madam Silva?”

His father's smile fell and he nodded. “Now pay attention, my boy. I may be old but my age has not made me a fool. I may not know fashion, but I do notice what people wear. I have met Severine four times and her daughters twice. She has worn the same dress every time as did her daughters. I know she is penniless. I allowed her the lie so she could keep her dignity.”

His father's tone was even and calm. It felt like an admonishment. Had he humiliated his future stepmother? Q felt guilt gnawing it him. There was a soft smile on his father's face. “I'm glad you got Severine out of there. Thank you!” 

His father stood coming over to him and gave a pat on his shoulder. “Severine sent a note,” his father said. 

Taking the small envelope from his father's grasp, it was hand delivered and brief. “She has asked me to give her away.”


	2. Wedding and Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments.
> 
> Again Dragon_Fire has taken the time to proofread this and I would like to thank her for the time and effort involved and for the title.

Q sat across from his would be stepsisters. He didn't like the carriage it was slow, cramped and cold. Eve and the slightly younger Vesper still didn't like him. After a few attempts at conversation they travelled in absolute silence.  
  
They headed to Ipswich, the largest town within practical travelling distance. There he was to go to the tailor for a suit and his sisters were to pay a visit to the French dress maker.     
  
Suspecting the tailor would be the quickest stop that’s where they started. Mr Meldrew had been his father's tailor since before he was born. The old man was the only person he knew to be as old as his father. He was much shorter with a similar bald head but far grumpier than his father ever was.  
  
Called in, Q was brought up immediately. Mr Meldrew the younger still had a bit of hair but it was receding fast and losing its once brown colour. With his father having been in a few days ago the Senior Mr Meldrew and son knew about the upcoming wedding.  
  
The father watched as his son took Q's latest measurements. “Your future mother managed to convince your father to follow the latest fashion, will you be doing the same?” the old man asked although it sounded more like complaint.    
  
Q looked down at the cream breeches, white stockings and the olive green jacket he liked. He then looked to the two girls, “Oh yes!” Vesper said.  
  
Vesper closed in. “Definitely long trousers with lower waist line, cream waistcoat, high collar and a puffed up cravat. Like the Prince Consort,” Vesper said circling him.  
  
There was a grumble at the mention of the Queen's husband. Many of the older and established generation disliked him. Nothing Vesper was recommending seemed to surprise the tailors as the German Prince was causing wave of change through traditional men's fashion.    
  
With the initial order made and material chosen they headed for the dress maker down the street. Q felt like an idiot, the moment Eve and Vesper heard the French accent of the tall elegant grey haired woman they all started speaking French.  
  
Unlike himself the two girls were taken through the back for their measurements. Q ran his fingers over bolts of fabric pulling one out he unwound a length. He held it up with Vesper in the background. The velvet was a very deep purple almost a red in some light. “I think you would suit this,” Q said.  
  
There was a moment, a thrilled expression then the curtain pulled back and Eve stepped out. She hid her anger well but Q could see it as Vesper gave her sister a brief look.  
  
“I'm not sure, Velvet is expensive and is so easily ruined,” Vesper said and a look of triumph passed Eve's face. Q saw behind Eve, the dressmaker glared at her for stopping the sale of an expensive fabric.  
  
Placing the bolt down Q picked up a golden yellow silk. “I thought you would suit this,” Q said to Eve, her light brown eyes narrowed just slightly.  
  
“Sir does have an exceptional eye,” the French woman purred before someone could interrupt another sale.  
  
“A personal gift from a brother,” Q said to the pair.  
  
The two girls exchanged glances. The dressmaker answered for them. “What a very kind brother.”  
  
While the three discussed the designs of the dresses Q played with the yellow silk. Using thread he outlined a design on the surface creating a filigree pattern. He had done it dozens of times to decorate some of the custom builds his father did.  
  
“What a wonderful pattern,” the dress maker said coming up to him.  
  
Q knew it was a good pattern and from the dress maker's point of view an expensive and complex addition. “I was thinking something sleek with the pattern being long and narrow like a lace work scarf embroidered on to the dress. Starting on the right arm near the wrist, sweeping up the arm, across the back of the shoulder, coming over the left shoulder like a sash, rounding the waist and extending to the hem line at the back.”  
  
The green eyes of the dress maker came alive at all the expensive work involved. Q nodded and watched as she marked out an example of the intricate pattern.  
  
Placing a hand on the dark velvet, “I once saw an American Woman, the bodice section was quite narrow with a skirt section also starting quite narrow and widening,” Q said as the dress maker picked up a piece of paper and started sketching.  
  
“A high stiff collar and lace work around the neck,” Q added indicating the additions to the drawing.  
  
Looking to his would be stepsisters both wore strange expressions, a mix of suspicion, anger and desire. “So what have you chosen for the wedding?” Q asked.  
  
The mix of emotions changed to confusion, “Isn't that for the wedding?” Vesper asked indicating the sketches the dressmaker was working on.  
  
“No they’re a gift from your future brother. Father is giving you the dresses for the wedding,” Q said.  
  
Vesper was the first the break her stunned state. “Thank you, Brother, you are most generous.”  
  
Eve also added her thanks but Q could tell she was suspicious and angry. He wasn't sure if he’d just insulted them or not. He also didn't know the latest fashions but he had an eye for design, pattern and colour. He just got a little preoccupied with what the end products would look like.  
  
Trying to push beyond the awkward moment Q asked again about the dresses for the wedding. Vesper was the more chatty of the two. He could have just looked at the sketches the dressmaker had made but he wanted to talk to his sisters.  
  
Soon they were back in the swaying carriage. Vesper was giving him a lesson on French,  Eve remained silent.  
  
\--  
  
A marquee was going up on the back lawn, people were moving about in preparation. Q avoided them heading for the shed. The chaos was mounting and Eve hated him for some reason. Vesper was becoming more open but Severine was still a mystery. He knew she was hiding things and he couldn't help thinking of Cinderella, wondering what his stepmother would be like when she could whisper in his father's ear.  
  
On the big table, in the middle of the conservatory lay his prototypes. Q was now trying to figure a way to assess the effectiveness of them. Several had been refined and cast in bronze. The first a cylinder about a yard long, an Archimedes screw. Q had also built something from a De Vinci sketch, the Master had theorised it would fly but Q wanted to use it to propel. There were also a few variations of the winged screw he had created.  
  
There was a tapping from the glass door. Looking up, Vesper and Eve were there both in the dresses he commissioned for them.  
  
The neck line of Eve's was high, to just under her chin. The raised embroidered pattern flowed from her right wrist, wrapping around her like a snake or a scarf all in a dark golden yellow. The colour highlighted her dark skin and light brown eyes.  
  
Vesper's was simpler, dark velvet, purple or red depending how the light hit it. The stiff white collar, open at the front and high at the back accentuated her neck. The only decoration was the lace across her chest. It would’ve looked better if the neckline were lower cut but that would be considered obscene.  
  
“You look beautiful,” Q said to them.  
  
Vesper's smile was genuine and she gave a spin, the dress billowing slightly. “Thank you brother.”  
  
“Thank you,” Eve said. Her tone was pleasant but he could feel the anger and hate coming off of her.  
  
“What are you working on, they look very complex?” Vesper said indicating the bronze prototypes. Q thought she was just humouring him so he tried to make his idea as simple as possible.  
  
“Sounds like a clockwork gondolier to me,” Eve snapped.  
  
“EVE!” Vesper barked in return at the rudeness of her sister.  
  
Asking about the gondolier Vesper used her hand to show a strange motion used to propel the boat through the water.  
  
Humming Q went to the sink in the corner filling it. His father had mentioned rowers but the movement was too complex to replicate. Rolling up his sleeve Q put his hand into the water. Unlike the rower the gondolier never pulled the oar from the water and the blade was never fully face on. With his hand acting as the blade of the oar Q replicated the side to side motion changing the angle of his hand as it passed through the water.  
  
It was so stupid, Q remembered swimming and doing this very motion with his arms to keep himself upright in the water. Looking up to the two girls both wore looks of confusion. “You are right. I'm trying to reproduce what a gondolier does. Thank you.”  
  
Vesper smiled and blushed slightly. Eve still looked like she hated him.  
  
Going to his drawing desk Q started planning a new prototype to add to the growing collection. This one stood somewhere between the De Vinci and his own winged screw. The wings came straight out rather than being swept back in the V shape, like the seed pod that inspired them.  
  
It was several moments before he noticed Vesper was still here and Eve had gone. “You don't have to stay. I get rather involved,” Q said.  
  
“I enjoy watching you work,” Vesper replied, looking over his shoulder at the drawing.  
  
Eve returned. Vesper still watched him work. “Sir William is here,” Eve announced.  
  
Vesper straightened his tie and collar then took his arm. Q offered his other arm to Eve and she reluctantly took it. They walked up the path to the house, “It's going to be quite big,” Vesper said indicating the white canvas building being erected.  
  
There were Navy, Army, politicians and business men coming from all around the country. There had even been a rumour of a royal presence given how well the ship had done in the Far East, expanding the empire. His father had been given and was awaiting his appointment of a Lordship. There had even been a mention of an honour for him as well but nothing would likely come of it, Q was young and would inherit he father's new title anyway.  
  
In the drawing room his father and Severine were on a settee together. The man with round face and dark thinning hair, stood. “Sir William,” Q greeted him.  
  
“Quinn, Miss Silva, Miss Moneypenny,” Tanner said giving a nodding bow. He moved to the chair so Q and the two girls could sit on the other settee.  
  
“My boy, Sir William has agreed to be my best man,” Geoffrey said.  
  
“That is very good of him father,” Q responded.  
  
\--  
  
Q wanted to scream. The marquee was up. The house was full. The Admirals Messervy, Hargreaves, Roebuck had arrived the day before. A Colonel Mallory arrived this morning. Servants were rushing about like headless chickens.  
  
His father and the more prominent of his guests were in the shed apparently looking over the latest developments, it was just an excuse to drink and reminisce away from the chaos.  
  
He hoped the library would be empty so he could escape the chose, it wasn't. The library was the largest room in the house with four high arched windows on the outer wall letting in plenty of natural light. The room was a basic rectangle shape three levels high. A wrought metal frame of gangways and stairs allowed access the highest shelves.  
  
Tables and chairs were in the centre. In a low backed leather chair, in front of the window sat a blond man with clear blue eyes. He smiled, Q felt his stomach clench caught in the gaze and that smile. “Hello,” the man said, a slight northern tinge to his accent.  
  
“Hello. Quinn Boothroyd,” Q said giving a nod.  
  
The man stood, he’d dressed in the modern fashion of long trousers, short waistcoat and long jacket. Q felt a little embarrassed by his older style breeches and green short jacket.  
  
“Bond, James Bond.”  
  
The embarrassment and his traitorous stomach no longer mattered. “Captain, welcome,” Q said his tone cold.  
  
A single brow arched, “Have I offended you?” James asked.  
  
Q cursed himself it was his problem not the guest of his father's, “No Mr Bond I am just offended of myself and do not like being reminded of my part in the development of Nemesis.”  
  
James sat back down. “Yes a fine ship. We were able to murder and destroy quite effectively. Now we can sell as much opium to China as they can smoke and they cannot bankrupt us with tea sales,” James said with a heaviness to his words.  
  
Q sat on the chair beside the man. His father had always called him foolish or radical depending on his mood, for his opinions. Here was the captain of that ship and he had guilt written over his face. “You understand?”  
  
There was a sad smile on the man's lips. “This may not help but we were going to war with China anyway. Nemesis shortened the war and with a quick surrender it save many soldiers and seamen dying in a far off land for reasons they couldn't understand.”  
  
“Money, power and control, the reasons are not that hard to understand. Everything else is used to justify the lust for them,” Q shot. James laughed the skin crinkling at his eyes.  
  
“Yes! Perhaps the reasons are simpler than I first thought,” James said.  
  
Q felt the clenching in his stomach again then those crystal blue eyes looked him up and down. Remembering his clothes, Q tugged at his jacket and breeches hems nervously. He could feel a blush. “I thought you would be with my father,” Q said desperate to break the silence and the man's gaze of him.  
  
“Boothroyd always made me feel nervous. ’Now pay attention Commander Bond', 'Don't touch that', 'Do grow up commander'. Oh! And his favourite, 'And this, I am particularly proud of'. He was nice but rather intimidating especially if you broke something.”  
  
Q laughed at the impression of his father done very accurately although he had always been softly spoken to him even when he broke things.  
  
Noticing the book Q asked about James' interest in ballistics. He hadn’t touched a gun since he developed a rifle for the army and no longer did anything with weapons, but if it meant he could talk with James he was willing to discuss guns.  
  
With James not having a real interested in guns only picking up a book he thought he could understand Q tried something else. “How was it going round the Cape of Good Hope in a powered vessel?”  
  
That did it, James discussed the voyage in detail, the ship, the crew everything trailing off when he arrived in Macau and his part in the opium war began.  
  
\--  
  
The day arrived and Q stood in his dark suit in the hall of the inn. As this was her third wedding Severine did not wear white. She was unquestionably beautiful, a long and sleek deep red silk dress with a slight oriental feel to the embroidered birds and flowers. Her dark hair was up and there was a slight train to the dress and long under skirt protecting the train from touching the floor.  
  
She held a simple bouquet of yellow roses matching the silk ones on her dress. Behind her stood the two daughters acting as bridesmaids. Both in practical long red cotton dresses with high necklines. Q remembered the dresses they arrived in, wondering if they chose the design in case that was all they were allowed to leave with. Shaking off the thought of his father's death and destitute widows Q stepped forward.  
  
“You look lovely,” Q said softly.  
  
“You look quite handsome.” Severine then reached forward to his cravat tugging and puffing it slightly. “Perfect.”  
  
Thanking her Q held out his arm. Outside the local villagers had gathered, the carriage was a small open top with his father's two most similar and presentable horses in front of it. The two still rather plain horses had their manes and tails braided with ribbon. The black carriage had been polished and ribbons used to decorate it.  
  
The two girls were first in sitting behind the driver. Q held the train as Severine stepped in then he followed his future stepmother taking the seat beside her.  
  
The trip to the stone church was short with villagers lining the street. At the church they got out, Q first assisting his stepmother then sisters. They paused a moment at the arched double doors, when they heard the organ they walked in.  
  
A single aisle bordered by fresh flowers giving off heady scents and bringing colour to the dark church. His father stood at the end, stooped and looking old dressed in dark long trousers, short waistcoat and long jacket. White shirt and red cravat looked sharp with its diamond pin. His wrinkled face shone brighter than usual, his eyes a little more eager.  
  
In timed steps Q and Severine glided down the aisle. Blue eyes met his and Q blushed, there on his father's side was James Bond. That piercing look was aimed at him not the Bride at his side. Moving beyond the Captain Q still felt like the man's heavy gaze was on his back.  
  
At the altar Q released his future stepmother's arm allowing her to step up beside his father. Q moved to the side and the Vicar started the droning sermon. The Vicar in his black cassock glanced to him then to someone behind him as he spoke.  
  
Quickly glancing over his shoulder there was Matilda in her best still looking like an over decorated cake, her hair in curls. She gave a silent giggle and a wave. There was a nudge from Vesper and a teasing smile, as Q cringed Vesper's smile grew even more teasing. His stepsister was all too aware of the Vicar's daughter and her desire to get him. She liked to rile him with it.  
  
“You're going to have to dance with her,” Vesper teased in an almost silent whisper. Q looked to the side ignoring her and the girl behind him.  
  
Another nudge from Vesper as the Vicar, his father and stepmother were looking at him. “I am,” Q said, his only phrase in the ceremony easy to remember as he was giving Severine away. Vesper was giggling silently at the lapse in concentration.  
  
“I now pronounce you Husband and Wife,” the Vicar announced.  
  
His father and Severine walked up the aisle. Vesper took his arm but Eve refused when Q offered his other arm to her. They followed the newly married pair out watching Severine and Geoffrey get into the carriage and the driver pulling away. Everyone else walked along the cobbled street, Q and Vesper arm in arm whilst Eve had taken Sir William's.  
  
“So when are you proposing,” Vesper teased. Q gave her a glare and she chuckled.  
  
Q cringed as a voice behind indicated the Vicar had overheard. “Hear, hear, my boy. Can't wait forever.”  
  
Q looked to the Vicar and his eagerness at the prospect of the marriage of himself and the Vicar's daughter. How was he going to tell the Vicar his daughter was seeing things that weren't there, Q didn't know?  
  
“If a man doesn’t see the world he risks settling for that which is there.”  
  
Q snapped his attention to the voice. There was James casually strolling along beside the Admirals and the Colonel. Q felt his cheeks heat at the man's scrutiny.  
  
The Vicar was glaring at James, full of holy wrath. “Sounds like hedonism to me, courting sin and abomination,” the vicar said, his voice rising like any holy man wanting to add weight to his words.  
  
Q could see James raise an eyebrow at the man. “A little sin never hurt anyone,” James teased as the Vicar went red in the face.  
  
Mallory nudged James. “Stop being deliberately provocative.”  
  
The youngest of the three Admirals, Hargreaves also reined in James from antagonising the Vicar further.  
  
With another quick glance over his shoulder Q was met with a soft smile that crinkled James' eyes slightly. Q felt himself blushing again. There was a nudge from Vesper, a teasing giggle and an expectant look, Q didn't know what she was getting at.  
  
By the time the conversation died they had walked along the main street, turned into the drive of the house and rounded it to the marquee. Severine and Geoffrey stood at the entrance, Severine looking regale and with her support his father stood a little straighter. Both looked happy.  
  
Q and Vesper greeted their parents. Q gave his now legitimate stepmother a kiss on the cheek. Pulling back Severine cupped his cheek, “You are a good boy just like your father,” she whispered.  
  
With the rest of the guests needing entrance they couldn't say more now. Q led Vesper into the marquee so Sir William and Eve could have a brief word with the happy couple.  
  
Taking two glasses from a tray Q handed one to his sister. He had never developed a taste for wine but the occasion called for a celebration. Q's glass nearly went flying as his arm was latched onto. There was Matilda looking like a squat cake. The Vicar's daughter gave him a smile, her rosy lips and cheeks powdered and painted.  
  
With one arm linked with his sister and the other latched onto by Matilda Q felt enclosed and trapped. Then he saw his sister so like her mother pulling herself to her full height and arching her back. Even in the simpler dress she radiated regal upper-class elegance while Matilda came across as a county housewife trying to act above herself.  
  
Matilda glared at Vesper while she openly ignored Matilda. Q could see his sister was doing it deliberately. He welcomed almost anything that would dissuade the Vicar's daughter but making her feel bad was not one of them. Until the arrival of his sisters Matilda was the most eligible lady for miles now she was second possibly third. There were still quite a few wary of those who were from the colonies. It mattered not if they were from princes of their country however, Sir William didn't appear to have an objection. He and Eve were speaking quietly.  
  
“Am I Interrupting?”  
  
The three of them looked to James even Matilda blushed when, what was now technically a merchant captain smiled at her. Q felt himself blush and there was a silent giggle from Vesper and a teasing nudge like they were sharing a joke.  
  
“Matilda why don't you introduce me about and we can leave the men to talk,” Vesper said pleasantly and sincerely.  
  
“Of course Vesper,” Matilda responded latching onto the offer to separate her biggest rival form the most eligible bachelor. Matilda then gave a slight yank to the arm in her iron grip. “Remember the tradition, I get first dance with you.”  
  
Q shuddered the moment Vesper led Matilda away. His father told him to dance with Matilda at the harvest festival and at the Christmas ball before that. Now she thought it was a tradition they shared their first dance together. At least he was free of her for the moment as he looked to his saviour.  
  
“It is my professional opinion and recommendation that you make a hasty, tactical retreat,” James said very softly to the younger man.  
  
“Oh sir I truly desire to retreat but like Rorke's Drift I fear I am surrounded,” Q said in weary resignation and indicated the quite large crowd gathering. From across the marquee his new stepmother waved followed by his father. James quietly chuckled, Q a little embarrassed as he waved back.  
  
When Q returned his attention to the man at his side there was sympathy, he didn't like the crowds either. It made Q feel a little better that he wasn't alone.  
  
“I once stood on the mast of a ship. Fore and aft, port and starboard, all that I could see was the edge of the world,” James said then chuckled. There was a wistful smile playing on his lips and amusement in his eyes as he continued, “My first mate brought me back to reality as he usually did shouting up reminding me if I looked down I wasn't truly alone.”  
  
“A friend?”  
  
James nodded. Q thought he saw something in the other man but didn't want to ask as it looked like pain and he didn't want to open old wounds for the sake of his curiosity. They’d only just met so it would be rude to pry.  
  
Taking a chance Q started walking, his father wouldn't be happy but Q hoped a moment of quiet would do him and James some good.  
  
Keeping an eye on James as they exited the marquee Q saw James' shoulders lighten confirming he didn't like the press. Although where Q enjoyed his own company James seemed to like someone to be with him. They walked around the marquee coming to the lake.  
  
The older man took his arm as they walked. On a trip to London Q had seen two resplendent soldiers in crimson walking arm in arm in a park. It was quite a common sight and not just by the soldiers, however, Q felt different when James wove his arm around his.  
  
There was a practicality in walking arm in arm. They were close so there wasn't a need to speak loudly their steps synchronised as did the slight sway as they walked.  
  
They moved beyond the end of the canvas marquee. The full view stretched out, the long lake cutting across the rolling hills in the distance. To the left was the red brick shed with the conservatory, one side built into the lake like a great boathouse. To the right was a forest. It was there they headed for tree line.  
  
Q felt the heat of the other man's body but there was no tension in him. When Q sneaked looks there was a soft smile on his lips making the sides of his eyes crinkle. “I'm sorry conversation is not one of my better skills,” Q said softly.  
  
The smile grew and Q blushed as those blue eyed looked at him and only him. “I am an expert conversationalist. It is a skill I was forced to hone in many a function. In truth I do not mind quiet,” James said.  
  
Q walked between the trees along a familiar well trodden grassy path to his second favourite place after the shed. A small stream fed a pond, clear and fresh before running off into the lake. It was good for swimming and Q had spent many a day lazing on the grassy bank. The surround trees gave a nice sense of privacy even though they were not far from the manicured lawns of his father's house.  
  
“Nice,” James said looking over the glade. The stream gave a constant noise of soft bubbling water as the pond continuously filled at one end and emptied at the other.  
  
Q looked up and enjoyed the tunnelling affect by the trees surrounding them. “It is.”  
  
A touch to his chin, little more than a brush of a thumb made him jump and snap his attention to the man beside him. There was well hidden fear and concern in those eyes, Q didn't like it and thoughts of the brief intimate touch were buried under concern. “Mr Bond?”  
  
“Sorry I was captivated for a moment,” James said  
  
The touch felt a little odd but he wasn't offended by it. Q still didn't like the fear and concern. “It's alright you just startled me,” Q reassured.  
  
The fear melted from those eyes and Q felt himself smile in response. He was then rewarded with a smile from James making his eyes sparkle.  
  
With great reluctance Q dropped his smile. “We should be getting back before we are missed.”  
  
Returning to the marquee they were in time for the start of the meal. Q took his seat between his stepmother and Vesper.  
  
When the meal ended Tanner stood to present his speech full of eloquence and dry wit, receiving laughs and polite applause as his words dictated. Then it was his turn.  
  
Q stood wringing his hands nervously. “I wish I had Sir William's eloquence.”  
  
Those that could hear chuckled, those a bit further back were confused. Q felt his confidence deserting him but, at the table there, beside the three Admirals and their wives sat James Bond. Those eyes were like a lifeline. “At least it will be short,” Q jibed and saw James' mouth twitch. It was enough, Q could speak to him.  
  
“As most may have guessed I am not the father of the bride and until a few hours ago I wasn't even her son, I am now. I would like to wish my mother and father the best.” Raising his glass people seemed a little confused with the shortness and quickly raised their glasses as well.  
  
As he sat down there were a few half hearted claps but the smile on James' face was all Q could concentrate on.  
  
When it came for the first dance Matilda latched onto Q's arm staking her claim. “Such a wonderful speech,” she said. Q knew he couldn't speak in public and didn't quite appreciate the placating lie.  
  
After his father had taken a few shuffling steps Q felt his arm nearly yanked off. The overly decorated cake of a girl was dragging him to the middle of the floor. Her curly blond hair bouncing as she marched across the floor. She pulled him close, an iron grip on one hand and another on his shoulder with a glare from those pale blue eyes. Reluctantly Q placed his left hand on her waist and started moving in time to the music, the first time he had led since the girl took possession of him.  
  
As they moved Q saw Sir William and Eve dancing together then Vesper with James. Q felt a stab of jealousy. A yank and he was no longer leading or able to see James and Vesper, Matilda looked furious. “Your _sister_ , throwing herself at any man.”  
  
Matilda's jealousy and anger were evident. Q also heard the emphasis on the sister, a reminder Vesper would be a scandalous interest for him. Too many people and Q was having trouble, his words were out before he could stop them. “Only one person is throwing themselves at a man and I'm the one being thrown about by her.”  
  
Q was seeing stars, a shriek he could barely understand then Matilda was storming out. Everyone was looking at him as Q looked about and fled as well.  
  
Out of the marquee he ran for the shed. He hated people, a hermit not a fearful prospect to him. He could work away alone, why did his father insist he socialise. In the dome shaped conservatory Q started doing something practical forcing himself to ignore what had just happened.  
  
Q's hands shook as he picked up one of his newest prototype, a small conical hub with fins coming out from it. Unlike the rest, with this one when Q spun it, he could feel it creating a breeze.  
  
“Well that was exciting,” Vesper said coming in, “they are already gossiping. What could the most austere gentleman in the county have said to deserve a slap?”  
   
“My bet is on you comparing her dress to a meringue,” James said following Vesper in.  
  
“I did not insult her dress and it looks like a decorated cake not a meringue,” Q shot then cringed as he could see his father hobbling towards them, his stepmother supporting him so he could move a little faster.  
  
When the tall but stooping form of Geoffrey Boothroyd opened the metal framed glass door he was clearly angry, his dark eyes hard. He didn't shout, he never did but the tone was enough to show how cross he was. “What are you playing at?”  
  
Q cringed and Vesper backed away. James was his saviour. “Boothroyd, there is nothing worse than the advances of a person you cannot stand, especially when that person is determined to pursue. It was never going to end pleasantly.”  
  
“Now, listen here Bond.”  
  
“Geoffrey,” Severine said resting her hand on her new husband's arm “you wish me to be a mother will you let me?”  
  
Q watched as his father nodded holding on to his anger and tongue for the moment. Q waited for the earful on etiquette. Severine continued to address his father, “It was clear Quinn cares nothing for the girl and she was making a fool of herself or worse she knew what she was trying to do. No one knows what Quinn said to her and no matter what he did say you never slap the host's son in the middle of the dance floor. I have been called the vilest of names in the middle of a crowd for all to hear. You never slap the brother of the host either. In the end the illusion of the dalliance is now over and everyone can move on.”  
  
“He needs to marry,” Geoffrey argued.  
  
“We will have a party, I'm sure we can arrange for ladies to come and find him someone more suitable. What bout that Miss Fields from Sir William's party, yes she would be better. There was the Spanish Ambassador's daughter, Camille. Why don't we invite gentlemen? Sir William has taken to Eve and perhaps we can find someone for that silly girl. Someone weak, a little lazy, someone who needs a more dominant wife.”  
  
“I think an extended event would be better to let the ladies get accustomed to brother's quiet nature. I'm sure Mr Bond will come,” Vesper added coming up to her new father and taking his arm.    
  
Q watched as his father was led away. Mother and daughter with his father between as the two women discussed a weekend of events.  
  
A hand landed on Q's shoulder, he looked up into the amused eyes of the older man. Q relaxed. “I feel I have traded one problematic woman for a potential army.”  
  
“We shall face them together,” James said, “may I?”  
  
Q wasn't quite sure what James was asking for giving a nod of consent anyway. The hand on his shoulder travelled down his outer arm to grasp his hand then James stepped forward to place a hand on his waist.  
  
Q felt nervous, a little afraid and excited. Those blue eyes were all that mattered and Q couldn't think as he placed his right hand on James' shoulder. In the almost silence of the lab they could just hear the music and James started to move leading with his right foot, Q followed in the dance.


	3. Launches and Holidays

Q stoked the small firebox. The converted rowboat wasn't the prettiest, its small steam engine towards the rear and the rudder (another new addition) attached to the back with a rope and pulley system so it could be steered from the front where Q sat. A bench ran across from one side of the hull to the other acting as helm and a desk and a small wheel in the centre so Q could steer.  
  
The bench also held a stop watch, notepad, pencil and two small telescopes with a right angle eyepiece fixed into position. One pointed forward so he could see the marker that kept his course straight, the other pointed to the right so he could see the two fixed markers on the shore of the lake. It allowed him to time how long it took to pass between points on the bank.  
  
The pressure gage rose, when the pin marked an optimal pressure he slowly released the valve, with a hiss the piston started turning the crankshaft. Water started splashing and the engine thumped into a regular chugging.  
  
Turning the wheel Q steered so he was in a straight line bringing up the engine to its optimum capacity. He kept the course from the marker aligned in the forward facing scope as the Engine hit 20rpm. As the scope to the side passed the start marker he pressed the button to start the stopwatch. Stopping the watch at the second marker Q noted the time, “42 seconds,” he said impressed. His best time yet.  
  
Bringing the rudder to the left Q came round in a circle noticing his father and one of his Admiral friends. Hargreaves was very eager, he knew paddle wheels had no place on a warship and was eager for an alternative.  
  
Returning to the start point Q shuffled back along the boat to open the small cast iron firebox adding a shovelful of coal. The pressure built within the boiler this time he brought the engine to 40rpm completing the run in 35 seconds.  
  
Again Q returned to the beginning. Only the da Vinci and Archimedes screw had survived 80RPM. The da Vinci took nearly half an hour to run the course while the Archimedes screw couldn't produce enough thrust even above the 80rpm. His own wing nut screw had sheared their blades but was quicker. His latest design was the fan.  
  
There was a bang and strong vibration from the crank shaft. Quickly Q throttled back, releasing the excess steam the attached whistle giving a high shriek. Closing the air inlet into the firebox the shrieking whistle quietened with the lowering pressure.  
  
Moving to the seat Q pulled out the oars turning the boat. When he was pointed towards the slip of the shed he pulled back on both oars, the fan now an inconvenience as it dragged along with the heavy engine at the rear making the boat quite unwieldy.  
  
His father, sister and the admiral were waiting for him as the bow touched the slip. Vesper was a bit of a mystery even after four months living with her. She was nice though she had a wicked and sharp sense of humour which Q enjoyed. Eve didn't like him and when she and Vesper were together Vesper followed her older sister's lead. Only when it was the two of them or his stepmother did she become friendly.  
  
Hargreaves was dressed in casual attire, long trousers, short jacket and a low top hat to hide his bald head. “Too bad my boy I thought that one had promise,” Hargreaves said.  
  
Q felt relieved that the Admiral was losing interest in his latest invention. Then his father spoke, “He is deliberately testing them to destruction. What was that last one, 40 revolutions?”  
  
Q's heart sank as he jumped out of the boat. “80 father,” Q said. Geoffrey and Hargreaves continued to discuss the trials.  
  
Dressed in just breeches and a shirt, something that he could swim in if he had to Q waded to the back of the boat. One of his father's employees brought him the wrench so he could detach the fan from the shaft.  
  
Q felt what was wrong. It confirmed his thoughts from the damage done to his own wing nut designs, the blades were too long. When the fan had been detached from the shaft Q could finally see the damage. The fan's blades were bent and one of them had broken off, however the fan design looked the most promising.  
  
He carried it as he walked up the slope of the slipway. The cavernous shed stood beyond holding the paddle steamer launch still under construction with a hive of activity around it. It would be an ornate miniature ship when finished, an expensive plaything for some rich person.  
  
When Q's bare feet left the water his father held out his arms to inspect the fan. He placed the bronze into the wrinkled but firm grip. “Yes a good design, just needs some refinement,” Geoffrey said.  
  
“Look there, the way the blades are bending and breaking indicates they are too long. Shortening them will reduce the likelihood of breaking but may impact the efficiency. The next round of experiments will be to research the optimal length of the blades.”  
  
The Admiral looked pleased with the assurances, then Q was in the gaze of those dark eyes. “Are you coming to the launch?”  
  
“Launch?” Q said pulling his shirt from his body so it wasn't clinging and see through.    
  
“HMS Vulcan, our first paddle frigate,” Hargreaves said. Q saw his father become bashful and avoid his eye.  
  
“I was not aware of the ship, I will have to check my commitments,” Q said. His father gave him a smile happy he didn't say something offensive the Admiral.  
  
Excusing himself Q didn't notice Vesper until they were halfway back to the house. “You are not happy,” she said.  
  
“I don't like to see my inventions used to kill,” Q said unable to keep the sharpness or the bitterness from is voice.  
  
“Well the military has deep pockets. Look at all they have paid for,” Vesper said indicating the house and the lands encompassing the shed as well. She saw the displeased expression on her brother's face.  
  
“I suppose you could get bees and make honey or learn how to sew and make dresses,” Vesper trailed off knowing all this technology and science was his passion. “If you want to follow your dreams you need to live with the consequences. If you can't live with seeing your inventions twisted you must find a new path. The priesthood was always a favourite for those running from their guilt.”  
  
“The bees don't sound so bad,” Q said.  
  
“And they would keep the visitors away,” Vesper teased.  
  
“There is that.” Q said then saw the way Vesper was looking at him. He became self conscious as she raked her eyes up and down him.  
  
“You look rather handsome when you are unkempt,” Vesper said.  
  
Q ran his  hand through his hair, it was drying hard from the lake water. His breeches were still damp and clinging. His shirt was a mix of dry and billowing while it still stuck to his skin in places, damp and see through.  
  
“Of course I am,” Q shot back not believing his sister.  
  
One of the good things about the house was a bathroom with a deep painted copper tub and a tap above. Q hated going to other houses where servants had to come in carrying kettles of hot water.  
  
Before stripping off he looked in the mirror but couldn't see what Vesper had been talking about. His hair was a little matted, his breeches and shirt dirty. He was thin, shallow cheeked and long faced nothing handsome. Not like the young farmhands who were strong and stout, the tall soldiers in their splendour or the Gentlemen who were fashionable, witty and full of charm.  
  
\--  
  
“Why can't you be like your sister? Quinn is nothing to concern yourself with. It wouldn't hurt to make friends with him. He isn't...”  
  
Q heard the angry hiss of his mother in the lobby below him. He was on the first floor balcony going round the upper level to the grand staircase at the rear of the foyer. He couldn't see his step sister or mother directly below him but heard Eve respond in a very quiet and angry whisper.  
  
“Stop poisoning this,” Severine ordered and it was the angriest Q had ever heard her be.  
  
Q returned up the corridor to his bedroom door opening and closing it hoping it was enough noise to warn the two women. Returning to the landing Q circled round and descended the stairs. His mother was standing at the door to the drawing room, Eve nowhere in sight. “You look handsome,” she said. She’d being saying that more and more lately as Q believed her less and less.  
  
“Thank you.” he responded anyway.  
  
“Now don't get into trouble in Portsmouth,” Severine teased.  
  
Q was excited about the trip to see the new facilities at the Royal Navy Dock along with the launch of the first official Royal Navy paddle steamer frigate. It would be virtually identical to Nemesis but this one would sail under the Royal Ensign as an official warship of Her Majesty's Navy.  
  
For his trip to the city Q wore his long trousers and a dark grey jacket with a green cravat. He had been expanding his wardrobe since the wedding. He still preferred the breeches but was wearing the trousers more and more.  
  
His mother did the final tweaks to his appearance before nodding her approval. “Keep one eye on your father and the other on those sailors,” she instructed  
  
Q assured he would. He didn't quite understand about the sailor remark until she gave a teasing smile and mentioned, “Although I think you would want to see that Mr Bond again. If you do, invite him to the party or just for a visit.”  
  
Q nodded unable to trust his voice. Where that man was concerned Q felt out of sorts. Ever since the wedding and the dance they shared Q felt off. Looking back he saw what it was, James Bond had been a courting gentlemen and he had acted like a blushing maid.  
  
Q wasn't stupid and never deluded himself he had no interest in the girls. He put it down to the ones like Matilda who were so forceful as to be off putting or so shallow as to be mind numbing. Never had he put it down to him being a sodomite. Then he’d learnt what it meant helped by a lawsuit where a poet was arrested and was now serving hard labour.  
  
“Sorry my boy, did Mr Bond do something?”  
  
Q shook himself realising he had frozen. His stepmother looked overtly fearful and worried. “No. It’s just Mr Bond is a little different,” Q said trying to sound innocent and oblivious to the other man's actions and his mother's speculation. Then Q noticed his mother did speculate, 'does she know?' Q thought in his own fear.  
  
Luckily his mother took his words at face value then turned her attention the stairs where his father was coming down, a walking stick in one hand and holding onto the banister with the other. He’d dressed smartly in cream breeches and a short blue jacket.  
  
With relief Q helped his father into the carriage as his mother and sisters waved them off. Q was able to relax with his genuinely oblivious father. The old man was closing his eyes, the carriage swaying as it moved towards Ipswich and the train station the town contained.  
  
“Father, you married my mother late in life. Was there anybody before her?”  
  
Geoffrey opened his eyes and looked at his son. “Well there was always something in the way, work mostly. There was May, Anne? I can't remember her name, when I was a boy younger than you before I joined the army. Why?”  
  
Q cringed, he couldn't tell his father the truth but he needed to stop the push towards marriage. “Father I have no interest in these girls. My only passion is the shed and my work. In time that may change but for now...”  
  
His father's brown eyed held him in the gaze, his droopy and sagging features giving the disappointed look a more heart broken feel. “My boy I wish I married far younger, I would have been able to be a better husband.”  
  
“Perhaps that time allowed you to appreciate your wife. I fear if I marry before I'm ready it will lead to resentment and hate,” Q said.  
  
Geoffrey sighed, “I understand. It took a long time before I was ready. It was almost too late. As long as you keep looking I will not force the issue.”  
  
Q felt like a weight had been lifted from him with his father's words. They were disappointed but understanding. “Well I may be able to enjoy mother's party rather than feel like a lamb to the slaughter.”  
  
There was a slight lift to his father's mouth. Q was never one for social occasions and he wanted to give his father an impression he would at least look out for a woman he could stand.  
  
\--  
  
There it was on the large slipway, the iron ship with two great paddle wheels surrounded by the protective frame, the single smoke stack between. Three masts stood along the centre line of the deck, there to aid the engine and for use when coal was short. There was still a great deal to do to the frigate, this was just the first time she would touch the water.  
  
Touring the ship that was to be formally christened HMS Vulcan Q's father remained on deck leaving Q to climb into the engine room. He listened to the Navy engineer as he explained the advances in the steam engine.  
  
After the tour of the ship Q headed to the labs to discuss the engine, casually mentioning the latest developments of his fan screw to the engineers and admirals.  
  
“A ship without paddles would be at far less risk of enemy fire reducing its manoeuvring, it’s always a mistake,” Hargreaves grumbled.  
  
“Newfangled nonsense,” the oldest of the Admirals said. Messervy was of the impression sail was still acceptable.  
  
The labs were wonderful, Q was interested in the newest developments and reluctantly looked at a cannon shell. The Admiral friends of his father were boasting how good it would be against the new iron ships. Before he could stop himself Q gave his opinion. “I don't think so, you need a slow shell. This one will make a neat hole that can easily be patched, a slower shell with a flatter edge will make a ragged rupture with twisted edges so far harder to patch.”  
  
The three admirals looked to his father, Geoffrey shrugged, “My boy knows his stuff.”  
  
Roebuck the most senior at the rank of full Admiral nodded. Like the other two he also wore the white breeches and long dark blue coats trimmed in gold. He looked the most concerned over Q's comments. Things were being developed so fast he was worried about ships being outdated before they touched the water.  
  
After the dock the Admirals took them to the Victory, the Gentlemen's club named after the famous flagship with only the influential or the highest Navy brass permitted to join. Q and his father had to be signed in. They seated themselves in a cluster of chairs beside an open fire in the lounge. Paintings of ships and battles decorated the walls along with Admiral Nelson in pride of place above the large fireplace.  
  
A footman arrived with a decanter of Port. Q fell silent as his father talked with the three other men. The decanter was passed to the left as custom dictated. Q was still on his first glass, the other custom meant the decanter had to be finished so he left his father and three Admirals to see to that tradition.  
  
Q was quite bored when he felt a weight rest against his chair. Looking up there was the teasing smile and bright blue eyes of the man he had been dreading to meet. “Sirs,” James said in greeting.  
  
“I was wondering if Q wanted to join the younger ones,” James teased. There was some banter about James not respecting his elders then Geoffrey made the decision for his son completely unaware he was pushing the last two people who should interact together.  
  
Finishing his drink Q stood to follow James out of the lounge. Q didn't want to but his mother insisted and if his father mentioned they had met. “We do not have an address for you, Mr Bond so my mother asked me to extend an invitation to you if we met. A weekend of events starting on Friday the 18th August.”  
  
Those eyes glanced at him and Q felt a knot in his stomach, fear warring with a giddy happy feeling. Both dreading and desiring the man to come. Those mischievous blue eyes continued to sparkle and Q felt the man knew exactly what he was doing to him.  
  
“It would be my pleasure. I shall write to your mother and thank her and thank you,” James said letting his voice drop low and husky.    
  
Q's heart sunk and swam, both joy and horror. “You are most welcome Captain Bond,” Q said trying to keep his interaction as respectable as possible.  
  
“Please, James or Commander Bond if you insist on being formal,” James said.  
  
“Of course Commander Bond.”  
  
James pushed open the large oak door holding it open for him as Q stepped into the large billiard room. The main table in the centre had a few people around it. A narrow faced man with blond hair falling into his dark blue eyes made an annoyed sound as the cue ball didn't hit right and sent the red ball bouncing off a bumper and back into the middle of the table. “With all due respect Sir that was your bloody fault,” The man snapped and stood to allow his opponent to take his turn.  
  
Q watched James smile at the man then the introductions were made. “Captain Alec Trevelyan, Quinn Boothroyd. He may let you call him Q if you stop scaring him,” James teased his friend and Q himself.  
  
Q stretched out his hand to the only other man dressed in civilian clothing. As they greeted each other Q noticed Alec had a nice smile that lit up his face as well. One side of his cheek raised higher than the other, but it was genuine.  
  
The man in the blue Navy uniform with the rank of Commander if Q wasn't mistaken called to Alec to take his turn. “I'm coming Trumpy,” Alec responded and went to take his turn at the table.  
  
“Trumpy?” Q asked James, lifting a quizzical eye brow.  It was a Lieutenant with auburn hair that had come up to them who answered. Q noticed like James and Alec he too was rather handsome with a nice smile and teasing intelligent eyes. He started by introducing himself as Lieutenant Archie Kennedy. After shaking hands and returning with his own name Archie indicated the commander with black curly hair. “A joke of Alec's, his name is Hornblower which became Trumpeter then Trumpy.”  
  
“Hear that Trumpy, they are talking about you,” Alec teased loud and clear.  
  
The brown eyes of Hornblower looked at him. There wasn't the nice smile that the other three had and the eyes were hard. Stepping up to him, “I apologise. Quinn Boothroyd,” Q said extending his hand.  
  
“Go on Trumpy play nice with Q,” Alec teased and took the next shot of his turn.  
  
“I did not give permission for you to call me Q,” Q snapped. The fact he preferred Q was irrelevant, it was rude.  
  
“I did not give him permission to call me Trumpy but it hasn't stopped him,” Hornblower said.  
  
“Well it is nice to meet you Commander Hornblower,” Q replied pointedly making his tone respectful and polite.  
  
Hornblower gave a slight lift to his cheek but Q didn't think the man was overly expressive any way. “As it is you Mr Boothroyd,” Hornblower returned.  
  
Alec gave them both a teasing and withering look. “Are we finished or are we going to practice our curtsies for the Queen as well,” Alec shot giving a slight dip at the knees and tugging on his jacket hem.  
  
“Oh behave Alec,” James said from where he was sitting in a comfortable chair with Archie beside him. The two watching the bantering spat.  
  
“Those two are the ones ganging up on me,” Alec whined to his friend pointing to Hornblower and Q.  
  
Without anyone smiling directly at him or the deep husky voice of James' Q quite liked the atmosphere of the friendly banter around him, getting into it himself. Hornblower was rather reserved but he did participate and Q could tell the four were close friends.  
  
\--  
  
Coming down the stairs of Roebuck's town house the Admiral and host were at the head of the breakfast table. “There is a letter for you,” Roebuck said and indicated the side board where the breakfast items had been laid out.  
  
Thanking him Q helped himself to some sausage, toast and a poached egg taking the letter and sitting down. The butler poured him a coffee.  
  
Inspecting the envelope, the address unknown but the sender he recognised. Opening the letter Q felt dread at the request, it sounded all innocent as James invited him to the beach. Thoughts of refusing on account of not having a bathing suit were scuppered by James mentioning it was a private men only (nude) beach.  
  
“Newporth?” Roebuck asked reading over the morning paper. When Q responded yes Roebuck launched into a tale of his youth as a newly appointed midshipman going to the beach, jumping from the rocks into the shining blue sea.  
  
“It will get some sun about you,” his father said coming into the room. Only then asking who sent the invitation.  
  
“Commander Bond,” Q replied.  
  
“A good man. Only worked with him briefly and a few times after I retired,” his father said nodding his approval of the friendship. “He will certainly teach you how to deal with women. Apparently a scandalous reputation, a woman in every port and a bastard in every town.”  
  
Roebuck chuckled, Q had never heard his father speak in such a way and in front of an Admiral and his butler.  
  
Then Roebuck laughed harder. “My boy you need to get out of your father's shed from time to time. Not even at his worst was Old Boothroyd so shut up.”  
  
With no graceful way out Q wrote a note to James accepting the invitation.  
  
They were soon in Roebuck's carriage on their way to the docks. There was a fair crowd when they arrived as people lined the streets on the approach hoping to see the Queen. They would have to wait a while yet, Roebuck was the first to arrive of the VIPs in the full splendour of his dress uniform.  
  
Roebuck stepped out first when they drew to a stop. Q held his father's arm as Roebuck helped from the outside. Whilst his father was in his usual style of breeches and short jacket Q went for the more modern long trousers.  
  
The work in the dock had all but stopped for the launch and royal visit. A wooden pavilion had been built next to the paddle frigate at the top of the slip. Two other wooden viewing platforms had been built either side for the VIPs. The public and workers would be squeezed in wherever they could.  
  
They entered the red brick building where the administration of the Dock occurred. There in an office Geoffrey sat to await the launch. Roebuck talked to Commodore Pellew the commander of the Dock.  
  
When the time came Q took his father's arm and Roebuck headed off to be part of the greeting committee.  
  
“Hello,” a familiar voice said halfway across the yard. The Ship and the temporary pavilions around the bow section of the slipway stood in the distance as the yard started to fill with workers and their families.  
  
“My Boy, Boys!” Geoffrey said seeing James, Alec, Hornblower and Archie coming up to them. Q also greeted them while James came up to Geoffrey's other side taking his arm as well.  
  
They continued to talk as they climbed the steps to one of the VIP pavilions to the side of the royal pavilion. Sitting on the uncomfortable bench seats with the bow of the ship in front of them they could see the Royal pavilion was still almost empty as was the other VIP pavilion on the other side of the bow to them. Below them crowds were gathering to witness the launch of the ship.    
  
A group from the Admiralty arrived in the royal pavilion. Messervy and Hargreaves were there and waiting, the more senior Roebuck would be getting ready to receive the Queen.  
  
“So I hear you are coming to the beach,” Hornblower said leaning forward from the elevated row behind.  
  
Looking to the Commander in full dress uniform, dark blue coat with gold and his sword obviously a little uncomfortable in the seated position. “Yes, Commander I am told the sun and sea air will do me good,” Q responded.  
  
“Can you swim?” Kennedy, the Lieutenant also in full dress asked. As Q described the lake he sometimes had to bail out into and the pond he liked to swim in a trumpet announced the arrival of the Royal visitor.  
  
With Q hooking one arm of his father and James hooking the other they raised to their feet. In the royal pavilion a small woman in a long pale blue dress was walking in from the back. Roebuck stood straighter than Q had ever seen him before. Although dwarfed by the men around her the Queen seemed to walk taller than all.  
  
She reached the front of the pavilion and a cheer went up as the crowds saw her. She didn't do anything so common as wave. This was the height of the Empire, she ruled most of the world and this ship would continue to expand and hold all those foreign territories.  
  
When the crowd quietened she gave a short speech full of patriotic sentiment, the might of the British Empire and Rule Britannia, God and by his grace her divine rule. Full of the 'we' meaning she spoke with the authority of God, the other major Christian church and England having fallen out a while ago.  
  
Roebuck held out a bottle attached by a thick ribbon to the bowsprit. The Queen took the bottle, “We name this ship Vulcan. May God bless her and all who sail in her.” The bottle was released to smash against the bow.  
  
The blocks were knocked away and the ship started siding backwards dragging massive chains so it didn't hit the water too hard. A great cheer went up, a mist of water and splash. HMS Vulcan was in the water and floating for the first time.  
  
The Queen turned and started walking away, those in the royal Pavilion bowing as she passed. Hornblower and Alec offered to escort his father to the Victory club. Q waited until the crowd had thinned and started walking to the edge of the dock.  
  
The ship was being tied to the moorings. James was beside him. “You look troubled,” James said.  
  
Casting his eyes to James, those piercing blue eyes were soft and he had a sad smile. Q shook his head and started walking towards the exit of the dockyard.  
  
\--  
  
Q was fretting as James flagged down a hackney carriage. His father would be making the return journey alone while Q spent a few days on the Cornwall coast with James before returning himself. With a small bag of necessities Q climbed into the cab beside James.  
  
With a command of 'Train Station' the driver cracked the whip and the horse pulled the small carriage away. “My first trip without my father,” Q said to his companion.  
  
“Aw! I will protect you from the big bad world,” James mocked with a sparkling smile. Q shook his head and ignored the teasing man beside him, also to hide his slight blush. James only gave a soft chuckle.  
  
The journey to the station, the train journeys to the Cornish coast and arrival at the small hotel all happened in a blur. Their accommodation was a small white building, two stories high and wide with lots of widows. James was recognised by the small round and balding man who ran the place. He was Belgian and to Q his accent sounded French, high and effeminate. Welcoming James as an old friend and casting a mischievous eye over Q he walked with a mince that made his hips dip and rise like a see-saw.  
  
As he looked towards the lounge, glass doors gave Q a view into the room. Men, only men sat far closer than normal and the way they touched, hands, arms or like one man to another the face. Q snapped his attention to the guide as he showed them to their rooms wondering what type of place James had brought him to.  
  
He had a moment alone while Poirot showed James to his room but all too soon there was a knock at his door and James was there, looking handsome despite the rigorous journey. “Come on we need to get good seats before the show,” James purred.  
  
Q wasn't aware they were going to a show or that the village a few miles away was big enough to have a theatre. The town with the train station was not likely to be their destination as it was too far for an evening journey. James guided him down the stairs and into a dining room.  
  
James pulled out a chair for him next to a window. Q was struck a moment, it was something a gentleman would do for a lady. Q didn't want to offend James so took the seat and James pushed it in as he sat. James took the seat opposite. The hotel was out of the way, it was situated at the side of the cove with views of the beach below.  
  
The small square tables started to fill in preparation for the serving. Picking up the menu card there was only a simple choice, many courses but only three options for the main course. The soup, fish and desert had no choice.  
  
“Ask for the house white,” James whispered when a tall lanky man approached the table. He was in long trousers as was the fashion of everyone here. A short waistcoat and a tight shirt with a bowtie. His thinning red hair was greased back. When Captain Hastings introduced himself he was upper class with a rather dopey way of speaking and a pleasant demeanour. With the feeling of being the punchline of a joke Q ordered the house white.  
   
The tall man went to the bar in the corner where the little round Poirot was also seeing to pre dinner drinks. Q noticed the anticipation growing in the room.  
  
“When he comes over apologise and ask for his expert opinion,” James whispered covering the movement of his lips with his hand. Q was getting concerned.  
  
“WHO ORDERED THAT SWILL?” came the high effeminate voice of the little round man. Q was then in the man's gaze.  
  
Watching the man mince towards him, hips swishing like a pendulum Q barely held his laugh and he wasn't the only one. Most of the dining room was enjoying the show. 'The show' Q thought and snapped his eyes to James who was also holding onto his laughter.  
  
A wicked idea came to Q. Fixing his eyes on the approaching man Q stood giving a nodding bow. “I take it the house white is not to the standard my companion said it would be?”  
  
The man was taken aback then he looked to James who froze. Q wanted to smile but knew it would destroy his innocent act. The little round man started hissing something to James in French and indicating Q. “I shall bring something better,” Poirot said to Q and minced back to the bar also shouting at the tall thin companion of his.  
  
“Thanks, now I'm in his bad books. Apparently I am a uncouth brigand for playing with a nice boy like you,” James shot with a teasing twinkle in his eye.  
  
“You are and for playing with Mr Poirot,” Q shot.  
  
“Oh something would have set him off. If it wasn't someone ordering cheap wine, it would have been someone using the wrong fork or something. The spats are why most still come, it’s so much fun,” James said.  
  
The little round man came over with a new bottle of wine. Pouring a little Q took a tasting sip. He gave the man a smile, “I'm just sorry my uneducated palate cannot fully appreciate the flavours. However I can tell it’s truly exquisite, a marvellous choice.” Q had heard a gentleman once say that to a French lady he was trying to impress when she started discussing wine. The man gave him a wondrous smile then poured a full glass.  
   
The meal passed, not so much in pleasant quiet, there were a few more tiffs between what Q had thought were the two men who ran the hotel. During one tiff a burly man came out of the kitchen. He was big with a huge bushy moustache, looking like a scary Sgt. Major his father once knew. Dressed in a food stained white apron a blast from his deep resonating voice put an end to the escalating argument before he returned to the kitchen. The show was quite enjoyable.  
  
As others returned to the lounge Q and James remained in the dining room sharing a post dinner drink while James enjoyed a cigar. They didn't talk about much and there were silences. Q could never tell if the quiet interludes were comfortable or not. He wasn’t a conversationalist and could sit for hours in silence, the first indication that something was wrong when whoever (usually Matilda) would storm off.  
  
Glancing at James he was just watching him as Q watched the sun disappearing behind the far cliff. “You don't have to stay,” James said. In that moment Q's concern for the lifestyle was unimportant, he didn't want to go. Shaking his head, “No, everything is just a little new and rather scary,” Q admitted.  
  
James gave him a shrug and a smile that made things feel a little safer.

 


	4. A day at the beach.

Q was getting nervous as they sat for breakfast in the dining room. The Little round Belgian man was on his second spat with his upper class associate. Vesper had taught him a little French but he only got a few words. The growing argument came to an end when the bigger man came out of the kitchen and blasted, “Would you two keep the bloody noise down!”  
  
They were joined by Hornblower and Archie who’d arrived by the early train. Archie may have been a Lieutenant, able to act refined however, the moment the fry up had been placed in front of him his accent changed. An accent common to the streets of London. Even the way he held a fork, as if it were a dagger and the way he ate off his knife. “Good breakfasts. Only a Londoner can do sausage and egg right,” he said.  
  
“Please don't speak with your mouth full,” Hornblower teased.  
  
They then watched as Archie added six sugars to milky tea and downed half of the cup in one go.  
  
After breakfast Poirot brought out a bottle of wine while his companion lugged a large wicker hamper. Showing Q the bottle, “Not my best but it will be excellent for you to practice your palate on,” he said in his lyrical accent and high voice.  
  
“Most considerate, Monsieur Poirot,” Q responded. Out of the corner of his eye he could see James and Hornblower exchanging teasing glances.  
  
Poirot then placed the bottle in the hamper and ordered James and Hornblower to carry it. Q chuckled as one ex and one serving Commander of the Royal Navy obeyed the order of the little round man.  
  
Poirot then took Q's arm along with Archie's. “Do enjoy yourselves at the beach. I hope you will become a regular visitor,” Poirot said directing the last sentence to Q.  He then stood at the door of the hotel and waved them off as they headed to the beach along the winding path down the cove. From their elevated position they could see the pristine, white sand forming a crescent shaped beach and inviting, shimmering blue sea.  
  
Q looked to the two men following James and Hornblower with the big wicker hamper between them. Hornblower had also acquired a tall collapsed parasol and James had what Q thought to be a windbreak, a series of narrow stakes with sheets of material between them.    
  
“Here let me,” Q said reaching for the rolled up windbreak.  
  
James pulled the windbreak away at the last moment with a teasing smirk, “This is my punishment for teasing you. I will suffer being a pack mule.”  
  
“Why are you not offering to lighten my burden?” Hornblower shouted to Archie.  
  
The sandy haired man came up to Q and took his arm as he held his nose in the air and with a dismissive tone, “Because Commander Hornblower Sir, on holiday I can tell you no.”  
  
With that he started chatting away while guiding Q on the narrow path down to the beach. When they arrived Q saw they were not the first. Men of all shapes and sizes, young ones in their prime and old and sagging had all claimed spots or formed groups. All were nude as the day they were born. Some lounging, a few in the water.  
  
Archie started pulling him along the beach, scrambling over some rocks helping James and Hornblower with the hamper, parasol and windbreak. On the far side of the rocks there was a small deserted strip of sand like a tiny cove hidden on the beach.  
  
Archie stabbed the parasol into the sand and raised the big umbrella. James and Hornblower unrolled the wind break and stabbed the stakes into the sand as well creating a low fabric wall to shelter from the strong breeze coming off the sea.  
  
Q froze. Archie had already pulled off his jacket, cravat and shirt, his braces hung down. Then came his trousers and underwear. Q averted his eyes to immediately see the largest manhood he had ever laid eyes on.  
  
There was laughing. Q went bright red and looked to the sand at his feet. He’d been staring, he’d been caught staring. “My apologies...”  
  
“Stop,” Hornblower called. “look if you want to. You’re not the first.”  
  
When Q looked up focusing on the man's eyes there was no anger, hatred or anything but a little amusement in those brown eyes.  Then a sniggering came to him, Archie stood the back of one hand resting on a jutting out bare hip. Even James was not hiding his mirth that well.  
  
“Just no teasing, no tripod or baby arm. I have had enough from those three,” Hornblower said indicating Archie, James and the general distance.  
  
“Do I hear someone calling me?” a voice shouted from beyond the rise of rocks. From over the natural wall climbed Alec and someone younger.  A boy about the same age as Q himself, long brown hair and dark eyes, slender in body. He was dressed finer than he seemed used to looking very uncomfortable in the suit he was wearing.  
  
“That had better not be another rent boy,” Hornblower hissed at James. James only shook his head and Hornblower raised a shocked eyebrow.  
  
“Captain!” the boy said in surprise, looking to James.  
  
“Mr Perkins,” James greeted.  
  
Q was now not the most nervous person present. Even as the taller Alec wrapped an arm around the younger man sending a teasing smirk to Hornblower and shot to James. “Oh James stop scaring Ben, he's a good lad.”  
  
James broke eye contact pulling the cravat from his neck. And shrugging off his jacket. Alec too was disrobing leaving Ben and Q standing nervously. Hornblower and Archie were striding towards the gently rolling surf.  
  
It was hot and in his suit, Q was getting uncomfortable. With a fortifying breath Q pulled off his own cravat. He refused to look to James as he dropped his last coverings down to his trousers.  
  
When he was disrobed with his clothes folded carefully Q placed them behind the windbreak where the others were keeping their piles. James came up beside him to place his pile beside Q's. “Who is he?” Q whispered indicating the man who had come with Alec.  
  
“A cabin boy from Nemesis, his first time at sea. Alec took a shine to him,” James whispered back.  
  
Q flicked his eyes to the boy. He was undressing and handing his clothes to Alec. Their eyes met briefly and he ducked his head and whispered something to Alec. The older man gave a brilliant and disarming smile. The boy still didn't look convinced.  
  
“He looks frightened,” Q said.  
  
“You look frightened as well,” James returned. He then started walking towards the rocks were he sat on the white sand then lay.  
  
Q followed James casting his eyes over the older man's form. He was the oldest of the group. His body a little fuller than the rest, still strong and stout. His muscles still moved with grace and his manhood was nowhere as intimidating as Hornblower's. Rather refined, nestled in the slightly darker blond hair of his crotch. Apart from the crotch he was actually quite sparse in body hair.    
  
Laying down on his side Q looked to the other man. Biting his lip, there were questions and now seemed as good a time as any. “As you approached me, showed me this life who showed you?”  
  
Q thought he’d made a mistake the moment he asked. There was a flash of old and severe pain in the older man's eyes as James rolled onto his side. A nod from James had Q looking to Ben, Alec, Archie and Hornblower. Alec had his arm around Hornblower's neck and was wrestling him to the ground. Archie was laughing and even Ben looked amused as the two men fell to the sand. What got Q were their manhoods, they were waking and becoming rather obscene. Q pulled up his legs to cover himself in embarrassment.  
  
“I was a Midshipman, so was Alec but I didn't know him at the time. We were both on our first voyage, fourteen and fifteen. My parents died two years prior.  We were crossing the Atlantic to the Caribbean to patrol the area and escort a convoy back to England.  
    We set sail, I answered to Lt. Hans Oberhauser, we all did technically. He was a right bastard, cruel and uncaring. Two weeks into the journey we hit bad weather. Clouds so thick and heavy it mattered not if it was day or night. Lightning forked the skies, rain so hard it stung like angry wasps. You couldn't see the hand in front of your face. The wind blew a man off the deck never to be seen again.  
    The ship rocked, I thought we would capsize. A sail billowed open. The wind caught it and it started listing the ship to Starboard. I was ordered to cut it loose. Most frightening thing I have ever done, climbing a foremast in that type of weather. I cut it loose. It flew off like a giant bird into the black sky.  
    When the seas calmed and I’d survived I found a small dark place and cried like a babe. That’s where Lt. Oberhauser found me. I prepared for a talking to or even his belt but he sat down and pulled me into his lap and let me cry.  
    The fool I was thought he would be nice the next day. He was the bastard he had always been but when it was the two of us, alone and no other eyes he was softly spoken and gentile.  
    I was a horny little thing, we all were. Over time I had seen sailors, officers and cabin boys fornicating like rabbits in heat. By then, in those quiet times when Lt. Oberhauser pulled me into his lap, I could figure out what he wanted and I gave it to him. I thought I would split like log right up the middle the first time we lay together.”  
  
Q was shocked, a Lieutenant taking advantage like that. There to teach and guide. Corrupting the young pre officer. But then Q looked at James, he wasn’t angry he was sad. “What happened to him?”  
  
James smiled but the sadness didn't leave his eyes. “We arrived in Kingston and with some shore leave Lt. Oberhauser dragged me to the nearest whorehouse. There I lost my virginity in the traditional way. On shore I couldn't be with him. I must have been the only one counting down until the 24 hour pass was up. Soon we were on patrol and I spent every stolen moment in Lt. Oberhauser's arms.”  
  
James fell silent. Concerned for the distress, Q offered to hear the story another time but James refused. So when James gathered himself, Q listened to the end of James' first tour.  
  
“The time in the Caribbean was over. A few ships had something valuable so we were to escort them back to England. The voyage started normally. For over a week, warm sunny weather.  
    The Lieutenant and I were in a store, everyone knew what we were doing in there. We were recovering, sated and exchanging gentle touches. A great crash and the ship lurched, listing to starboard. We were on deck in no time but even in the short time it took to get dressed the list was getting more severe.  
    It was a beautiful day nothing should have gone wrong. Men were scrambling about. No one knew for sure but the best suspicion was we’d hit a reef. Then something happened, as far to starboard a we were, the ship then listed to port and it kept listing. I was thrown into the water along with everyone else who was on deck.  
    I lost sight of Lt. Oberhauser. I met eyes with Alec then something hit him and he started to float face down. I swam to him and kept his head above the water. It was chaos. I started to make for one of the ships we were escorting, it was quite a distance and when I arrived they were lowering their boat.  
    After turning Alec over to them I returned with the long boat. The ship was on its port side and sinking. When we arrived I jumped in the water, the only one who could swim. I pulled man after man out. Later I was told I saved ten men. All I could think was none of them was Lt. Oberhauser. Even after the ship had vanished I was demanding to continue searching. I was pulled from the water and dragged back.”  
  
This time when James fell silent Q noticed the others had gone quiet as well. Looking to where they had been playing Alec had taken Ben into the sea. Hornblower and Archie were sitting as far as the enclosing rock walls allowed. They were deliberately avoiding looking in their direction indicating they knew James' story and that he was telling it.  
  
“I'm sorry for your loss,” Q said unable to think of anything better but feeling he needed to say something.  
  
James gave a humourless chuckle. “Many, Alec and Hornblower included understood. You however are the first to say that,” James said. “For my gallantry and going above and beyond the call of duty to save my shipmates, and with the third officer surviving and one of the people I pulled out of the water able to report my exemplary conduct during my first tour, I was commissioned as a Lieutenant.”  
  
To a normal boy the praise and recognition should have been wondrous, a truly great mark to have against the name of James Bond. Q could see the pain it caused James. He could say things like 'you saved eleven people' or 'you met Alec' but love didn't work like that. No matter what he did, James could only see the one thing he didn't do and it left Q at a loss for something to say.  
  
“It is selfish but I am glad you survived so we could meet,” Q said.  
  
James' eyes lost the dullness and sadness to become sparkling and bright. “I am also glad to have had the opportunity to meet you.”  
  
Q blushed, deep and red. He didn't doubt James' words. He could see they were true and it sent a thrill through him. There were still questions, the mechanics of 'how' chief amongst them. Q wasn't so sure about that phrase of James, feeling like he would split up the middle but they could wait.  
  
James suddenly stood and offered his hand. “It's warm lets refresh ourselves.”  
  
Taking the offered hand Q was pulled to his feet and towards the gently rolling waves. Getting closer he could hear Alec teasing his companion as they splashed and frolicked.  
  
James rounded on him. Q soon found himself over a shoulder looking at James' back as he was carried towards the water. “Put me down,” Q snapped.  
  
With a slight toss Q then found himself being carried like a new bride over the threshold,  those sparkling blue eyes full of excitement and mirth. “Are you sure?” James said his voice low and husky.  
  
“Yes,” Q snapped and he was dropped. Scrambling he managed to hook an arm around James' neck and pulled the bigger man down with him into the cold water with James on top of him. They splashed and Q got his head above the water again glaring at his laughing companion. He flicked his hand and splashed him for good measure.  
  
Like a serpent Q watched Alec swim up behind James then he lunged pulling James into the water. Q dived after the pair.  
  
Arms wrapped around him, pulled him under the water then let go. Surfacing Q came face to face with Alec's young companion. He looked hesitant, unsure if he was overstepping a boundary or not. Q smiled and splashed him. They were joined by the last two until Q and Alec's companion pulled away. The others with far more stamina continued to splash and play.  
  
The two collapsed on the beach and watched the others. “I'm new as well,” Q said to the dark haired and eyed man beside him.  
  
“Not so new but this is the first time Alec has shown me to his friends,” Ben answered.  
  
As the silence stretched Q could figure it was becoming uncomfortable. Q wasn't good at conversation and unless the other person took the lead like James, Q found it difficult to keep it going. “You met on Nemesis?” Q said hoping to force some form of conversation.  
  
There was a nod and Ben remained tight lipped. Not thinking the other man's time at sea was a good experience. Q let that path of conversation drop as well.  
  
Only as the others pulled themselves out of the water did the silence break. As it was approaching mid day they moved to the parasol to get some shade. The hamper was opened and small short wineglasses were filled. Cheeses and fruits were handed round along with breads and buns full of plump dried fruit, sweet and spicy.  
  
Pleasantly full everyone separated slightly. Ben reclined his head resting on Alec's stomach. Lying on the edge where the shade and sun baked sand met Archie and Hornblower weren't touching but were lying close to each other.  
  
James reclined on his stomach his head resting on his crossed arms. Those eyes were looking at him. Moving closer to the man, reminding Q of a reclining lion snoozing off his latest meal Q lay on his side and watched him. They were rather close, if he reached across he would touch that sun warmed skin, sand sticking from where it had been clinging to damp skin.  
  
He started to doze but with a sudden idea, blinked awake. James too was relaxing and closing his heavy eyes. With nervous, excited confidence Q reached across stopping shy of James side. With a smile from James, Q touched the plane of skin along the side of his ribcage to the waist and hip, downwards to his thigh. It was as Q had imagined, sun warmed, the thigh tougher, the hip and waist softer.  
  
With embarrassment Q felt his manhood swell, rolling onto his stomach to hide his arousal. There was a low chuckle from James then like a snake one arm unwound from under James' chin. Q felt fear and desire as the hand bridged the distance.  
  
Starting at his shoulder Q felt the rough pads of the other man's fingers. Butterflies flitted in his stomach as the hand brushed down his shoulder and back. It hesitated a moment then it skimmed over the round of his buttocks and down his thigh. Q's heart was beating and his arousal was rather uncomfortable, trapped between his stomach and the warm sand. With disappointment and relief the hand pulled away and came to rest in the space between them.  
  
Q brought up his hand and lay it beside James, just touching. After a smile from James Q lay his hand on top of his. Those fingers were thick and strong where Q's were thin and precise.  
  
Closing his eyes Q felt those thick strong fingers spread open. His fingers fell into the gaps then he felt them gently close around his, interlacing them. Curling his fingers Q fell into a doze.  
   
“Lovebirds!”  
  
Q snapped awake, so did James if the startled looking about was anything to go on. Alec the source of the call was pulling on his trousers, so were the others. The sun was waning, hanging red and casting long shadows.  
  
“James,” Q called looking back to the man, his back had gone a deep red. Then Q noticed his own skin felt tender and sensitive.  
  
Pulling themselves to their feet they moved to where everyone else was getting dressed and packing up. Carefully dressing to avoid irritating the tender sunburn he jumped as a crack sounded. Q looked to James lunging at Alec, a clear hand print on James' sunburned buttock. Alec danced out of reach as a naked James chased him, Q started laughing.  
  
James caught Alec wrestling him to the ground and delivering several forceful open palm slaps to the cloth covered buttocks. “What you are you complaining about, lover boy can rub cream into it,” Alec shouted.  
  
Q froze, the prospect of running his hands everywhere both frightening and desirable. James climbed off Alec to get dressed.  
  
Archie came up to him and wound his arm with Q's. Q then grasped Ben's arm and the three lead the way back to the hotel. Alec, Hornblower and James lugged the hamper and other items.    
  
They arrived in time to get a quick wash before heading to dinner. Rather surprisingly Q had thought they would sit together. However, Hornblower and Archie were at a secluded table in a dark corner. Alec and Ben were in a central table. Again James and Q were seated at a window with views of the setting sun.  
  
When Poirot came up to them with a pleasant smile on his round face Q thanked him for the wine he’d recommended. He had brought another bottle and as he poured a tasting portion described the differences to the one Q had drunk earlier that day. With the short lecture over Q and James were left to talk.  
  
“How is the sunburn?” Q asked chuckling at the memory of the red handprint on the already red backside.  
  
“Survivable. Rather silly falling asleep like that. It was nice though,” James said and his eyes had a soft pleased look that made Q's stomach flutter.  
  
Unlike the night before James guided him out and into the lounge. It was a nice room full of couches, chairs and side tables. Thick rugs covered the wooden floor of the large room.  
  
At a small cluster of two couches and a few chairs Alec sat unashamedly with Ben pulled to him and a possessive arm around his waist. Archie and Hornblower sat in two chairs, still close but not touching. There was a chair and a space beside James for Q to choose from.  
  
With red tingeing his cheeks Q sat beside James brushing arms. There was a teasing smile on Alec's face as he looked between James and him, Q blushed deeper.  
  
Cigars were passed around but Q passed on them. He felt a little left out until Ben started to look a little green. The small brandy that Q sipped was all he could stomach when he needed to but didn't really care for it. Ben took a sip of his and went a little greener. Alec plucked the cigar from his companion's fingers.  
  
Q had come to like the people around him. His time with James and today had clarified one thing to him. No woman has ever made him feel the way he did with James. “My mother is throwing a party to help me find a wife.”  
  
Alec burst out laughing, even Archie looked like he was holding in his mirth and if Q wasn't mistaken there was a shallow vibration from the man beside him.  
  
“I was going to invite you but if you're going to act like that you can bugger off, all of you,” Q snapped in a huff.  
  
The laughter grew. Even the stoic Hornblower and nervous Ben were concealing obvious laughter. Then beyond their cluster of chairs and couches Q saw he was being watched. Looking around wherever Q's eyes landed people averted their gaze. The big man who did the cooking nudged Poirot and nodded towards him. Poirot rounded on the big cook and he cowered under whatever quite words the little Belgian was whispering.  
  
A strong arm wrapped around him and James was giving a broad genuine smile. Q ducked down and against James. “I'm not a, a,” Q trailed off not too sure how to describe Poirot and his public and unashamed hissy fits.  
  
Alec made no attempt to hide his continued mirth. Hornblower nudged Archie and he fell silent then so did Alec. Alec sat up straight, took his arm from around Ben and crossed his legs. His whole demeanour changed. In that moment he was every bit the refined Royal Naval officer. Archie who had let his true London accent remain since coming here also switched. He came across every bit the refined Officer and gentleman. Even Ben sat up straighter and was more formal, not quite as comfortable though.  
  
Glancing to Hornblower who had not really lost his reserved demeanour until Q's hissy fit had returned to his normal self. Then James had that smile and Q had forgiven him in that moment. “Fine you can come if you behave yourselves. At least in front of my family,” Q said.  
  
There was a subtle nudge from James. Q didn't quite understand until he noticed the nervousness of Alec's companion. The man wasn't sure if he was being included or not. Taking the hint, when Q continued he addressed Ben first, before looking to the others. “I should warn you my mother is very observant, my elder sister is prickly, but the younger of my sisters is rather nice. I think she would get on rather well with Alec.”  
  
“She sounds interesting,” Alec purred and got an elbow in the stomach from Ben.  
  
“That’s not what I meant, stay away from my sister.” Q teased.  
  
Hornblower was the first to accept the invitation followed quickly by Archie. Alec accepted the invitation for himself and for Ben.  
  
Packing up that night Q felt butterflies. He had enjoyed his time with James and the beach he’d been dreading. In the morning Poirot handed him a small wicker hamper. “You cannot trust that muck they serve on those trains,” he whispered.  
  
The burly cook accompanied them to the train station where they rode on horseback through the nearest village and beyond to the town with the train station.  
  
Arriving in London they separated and James waited for Q's connecting train. They sat in a  teashop in the new and wondrous station. When it was time, Q so wanted to give James a kiss just like the other couples separating. “It was a joy, I can't wait until we meet again,” Q said rather stiffly.  
  
Getting a smile James took his arm and walked him to the platform going so far as pulling open the door into his compartment. Q stepped through and sat on the uncomfortable wooden bench. “See you soon,” James said and slammed the door closed.  
  
Q lowered the window and saw James still waiting. He was still waiting as the conductor blew his whistle and with a jar the train started moving. Q waved and saw James remain on the platform until they moved out of the covered station. The wind forced Q to close the window. He sat back enjoying his memories of the beach.  
  
Arriving at Ipswich Q opened the compartment door onto the platform. His bag and the excellent hamper full of treats were now a bit cumbersome that he was alone.  Suddenly his bag was plucked from his grasp, leaving only the small hamper.  
  
“You had fun,” Vesper accused with a mischievous look in her eye.  
  
“I did,” Q agreed.  
  
“So, what did you do, did you meet anyone? You got some sun about you, you look handsome,” Vesper rattled off in excitement.  
  
“I went to the beach with Commander Bond. Met several of his friends. Fell asleep in the sun and have gone as red as a lobster in boiling water. I invited them up for the party,” Q responded in a more sedate pace.  
  
Before getting into his father's small enclosed carriage Q looked to his sister and asked, “Father?”  
  
“Stop worrying brother. He arrived back the day before last. Had a hearty meal went to bed and was in the shed all of yesterday and did the same today. Mother remembered you were coming back so sent me,” Vesper teased.  
  
Arriving home Q was met with his mother and other step sister. Eve looked like she had been dragged. His mother looked genuinely pleased to see him. She gave a smile that seemed to indicate she knew everything that happened leaving Q embarrassed and a little scared now that he was out of the safety of that small hotel and isolated cove.  
  
She held her arms open and Q stepped forward for a rather stiff hug. His lack of ability to relax was covered by the wince when his mother's arms closed. “Sunburn,” Q hissed and ducked out of the hold.  
  
“Apparently he is like a boiled lobster,” Vesper teased.  
  
Q shook his head at his teasing sister. “I am so glad I invited Mr Trevelyan. The two of you can tease each other mercilessly,” Q shot back and Vesper raised a quizzical eyebrow.  
  
Telling his mother about inviting the others she seemed genuinely pleased. She went to say something before stopping herself. Then gave a smile and said, “The more the merrier.”  
  
After the welcome Q made his way out to the shed. Vesper was clinging to his arm demanding more details about the men Q had met. He was careful as he described them.  
  
“And Mr Bond?” Vesper asked.  
  
Although innocent and oblivious Q was nearly overwhelmed with jealousy. Vesper could actively pursue James where he could only have stolen moment when no one else was watching. “A vial cad and philanderer,” Q tried to sound teasing rather than desperately trying to dissuade his sister from looking to James.  
  
Vesper gave him a raised eyebrow. “You know you sound like Eve when I ask after Sir William,” Vesper said.  
  
Q was scared. Eve and the friend of their father were almost on the verge of declaring themselves as stepping out. She had snapped at her sister in jealousy the few times when Vesper teased her.  
  
“I was just teasing,” Q said and could see Vesper was not convinced but dropped the subject.  
  
Entering the shed Q saw his father standing beyond the conservatory lab inside the cavernous workshop. His father watched as the small steam launch was lowered on the slipway.  
  
“Father,” Q called. The wrinkled face looked to him then he grew a smile.  
  
“You look well,” his father said. Q smiled and nodded.  
  
“I had a good time. I invited Commander Bond and a few others up.”  
  
“Good! Good men, Bond, Trevelyan, Hornblower, Kennedy all good men.” Geoffrey said almost to himself. “A good group to fall into.”  
  
Q was confused, did his father understand what he was or was he genuinely oblivious. Q had always felt his father was straight as an arrow. Then he talked about that inn a village over, knowing the big busted landlady by name. Then there was the way he spoke with the Admiral.  
  
“Yes father a good group,” Q said unable to say anything else.


	5. Party, Play and Disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kudos and comments.

“Come on girls,” Severine shouted from the foot of the stairs.  
  
Q came out of his room. Eve and Vesper were already going down the stairs. “May I join you?” Q called. Eve barely glanced at him, Vesper and Severine welcomed him.  
  
Sitting beside his mother with his sisters facing him they made their way to Ipswich. Arriving just off the main street they exited the carriage.  
  
“Could I steal Vesper for an hour?” Q asked. Again Eve looked away, his mother and Vesper were openly curious. Explaining his wishes Q soon found Vesper with her arm around his and heading to the tailors.  
  
Meldrew and son were as pleasantly bad tempered as usual. Both grumbling and complaining as Q and Vesper entered. “What can I do for the young master Boothroyd?” the younger Mr Meldrew asked with an air of annoyance of being disturbed.  
  
“Just a new jacket and perhaps a bowtie,” Q said  
  
Despite being in less than a month ago the tailor insisted on new measurements. Vesper giggled as he was manhandled. Then came time to choose material, cut and colour and the reason he wanted Vesper to come. She was always reading up on the latest fashions.  
  
Soon Q had a dark green jacket for day wear. Then those big brown eyes of his sister turned to him as a weapon, a slight pout on her lips. Q could already feel himself agreeing to whatever she had planned. “You need something a little more refined for the dinner,” she said.  
  
Added to the wool jacket was a lighter silk blended one in a dark grey fabric that seemed to have a slight shimmer as the light moved across the bolt of cloth. Q agreed and handed the bolt back to the tailor.  
  
With the two jackets commissioned, a bowtie in red (just to expand his wardrobe), a new cravat to go with the silk jacket and white silk shirt Vesper wound her arm around his and they walked out.  
  
Walking along the cobbled streets to the dressmaker Vesper leaned into him. “We must go to London sometime, see the fashion houses and tailors first hand.”  
  
Q had a desire to go to London for a different reason. For his sister he nodded and agreed.  
  
The small panes of the bay windows came into view. The sign sticking out had the painted 'Madam De La Tour' indicating it was the French dressmaker.  
  
Pushing open the door, a bell tinkled. “The generous brother,” the woman called. 'Generous' Q thought with horror. He nearly had a fit when he saw the final bill the woman sent him for his gifts. He had the passing thought it would have been cheaper to go to Paris and buy the dresses there.  
  
“He does spoil his sisters,” Severine snapped at the woman giving her a slight glare. The dressmaker glared back. The smiles never left either of their faces.  
  
Q wasn't sure what the argument was about. Retiring to a corner Q watched as his mother snapped and gestured harshly to the woman. It was a little frightening, he had never seen her so hostile before.  
  
The moment they stepped out his mother returned to her normal, placid and regal self.  
  
“Did Madam De La Tour offend you in some way?” Q asked still a little concerned about the changes in his stepmother.  
  
He was given a sparkling smile, “No, Quinn. She is just not what she portrays herself to be. There is nothing wrong with that, as long as she always remembers she is not the person she is pretending to be. She can speak French but with no accent I recognise. Her designs are English interpretations of French fashion. She is skilled but not in French techniques and she inflates her prices, at least triple.”    
  
Q wished he had known that before. A third was a much fairer price for the dresses he bought his sisters. He never mentioned it because the dresses were a gift.  
  
Severine took his arm and told him how to shop. “No matter what you are buying always pay by credit. Once they have your money there is no motivation to make sure their product lasts. Always pay less, at least 10%. Never pay on time, but never too late. If a merchant wants paid in full, half the price. If they wanted credit paid on time, force them to drop the price.”  
  
Q's head was spinning. He always though you got a bill and paid it. His mother was making it sound like a whole new type of etiquette was involved.  “Sounds very complex,” Q said.  
  
\--  
  
Coming downstairs Q saw his father, mother and Eve welcoming Sir William. Q added his welcome but it was the next set of guests that Q was eager to see.  
  
Stepping out of the front door he was just in time to see James and the rest entering the long drive like a host of bandits. The youngest, Ben with a rather ungainly bounce trying to keep up with the more experienced riders.  
  
“Your friends?” His mother said from behind him. Q looked over his shoulder to see her sceptical face.  
  
Geoffrey answered before Q could, “A bit rough but a good lot.”  
  
Q stepped forward as Alec on a chestnut stallion flew past and rounded him. Q was quite proud he didn’t jump out his skin as he felt the wind in the horse's wake. James pulled up as did Hornblower. Archie grabbed Ben as his horse came to a grinding halt and he nearly went over the front of it.  
  
“Welcome,” Q called as they dismounted. Suddenly a strong arm came around his shoulders and he was standing side by side with Alec, the man grinning down at him. “Nice gaff your Lordship,” he whispered.  
  
Squirming out of the man's grasp, “Behave Mr Trevelyan,” Q shot at the grinning loon.  
  
“My boy, no one has ever gotten Lt. Commander Trevelyan to behave,” Geoffrey said coming down the stairs, a broad smile on his face.  
  
“Quartermaster,” Alec greeted the old man. Giving an annoyed shake of the head, Geoffrey moved on to James as frustrated with Alec as Q was.  
  
“So who is this?” Alec said to the vision of the unimpressed woman holding herself ramrod straight at the front door.  
  
“My mother and manners Alec,” Q snapped. When he made the introductions between Alec and his mother he was quite surprised Alec actually behaved.  
  
With relief the introductions were made and Q led his guests inside. In the library Q rang for some refreshments. The young Ben looked about the high levels of books while James collapsed in a chair.  
  
Q noticed Ben went to grasp Alec's hand then pulled back as if burned. Hornblower and Archie were the same. They were sitting as far from each other as possible. Q was worried, should he have invited them.  
  
Then he saw James' smile, even Alec and the rest smiled and it didn't matter. He could tell they were here to support him in the approaching farce and he was grateful.  
  
“So where are you staying? I hope it isn't anywhere I like,” Q teased.  
  
“The inn of Mrs Arlass,” Hornblower said.  
  
Q chuckled remembering the establishment in the next village over that bordered on being a brothel. “Oh good, give her hell,” Q teased.  
  
“So his Lordship does have a wicked side,” Alec teased back.  
  
“I have a nickname I like, would you kindly use it?” Q snapped at Alec.  
  
A chuckle interrupted the moment, his father had wandered in. “My boy, I have never been able to get Mr Trevelyan to stop using Quartermaster and worse, the name has spread,” Geoffrey grumbled.  
  
“Quartermaster,” James, Alec and Hornblower called raising their glasses in salute.  
  
The old man gave an affectionate shake of the head and moved to one of the higher wooden chairs used for reading at the table and the easiest for him to get in and out of. Behind him was a tall upright man with thinning black hair Q recognised Colonel Mallory and nodded to him, as did James. Mallory joined Archie sitting on the bench in front of a window.  
  
Q noticed more of a change in the men around him with the presence of his father and Mallory. James switched on a teasing charm that was absent when talking to him. Alec became careful in his supposedly brainless teasing. Hornblower became even more stoic, reserved and polite. Archie also became more posh sounding and stopped sending Hornblower glances.  
  
It was Ben Q felt empathy for. Both feeling like the world had suddenly changed around them and weren't too sure where they fit in.  
  
“Then he threatened to have the Magistrate arbitrate the dispute,” Geoffrey's voice broke Q of his thoughts and laughter went up.  
  
Q wasn't quite sure what was being discussed then Alec sent him a teasing smile raising a quizzical eyebrow saying, “A bastion of moral superiority. Never misses church, quoting scripture.”  
  
“Excuse me?” Q said to the group and more chuckles went up.  
  
“Mrs Arless,” James prompted.  
  
Q shook his head thinking of that woman. “I wouldn't have been so objectionable if she hadn't been so greedy,” Q grumbled.  
  
Geoffrey chuckled. “You object to paying full price for a tart but for a dress you pay three times their worth. Your mother nearly hit the roof when she found out how much that woman charged you.”  
  
“Does the little Lordship like to wear dresses?” Alec teased.  
  
Before Q could get offended his father saved him. With a chuckle and another long suffering shake of the head, “Do grow up Lt. Commander Trevelyan.”  
  
In the long dining room Q was placed about half way along the table. There were nearly twenty in all. Sir William was to the right of his father with Eve beside him. On the other side a few places along Q almost felt sorry for Alec. Matilda still looking like an over decorated cake had taken a determined shine to the dashing Lt. Commander.  
  
What thrilled Q was James sitting beside him and Vesper the other. The two kept him safely from the overwhelming conversation.  
  
It was without a doubt the best social gathering Q had attended. Even in the games and discussion after Q felt like he was wanted. When he moved from group to group he would be welcomed by James, Alec, Hornblower, Vesper or Archie. Ben staying as close to Alec as possible. Q wasn't quite sure if it was jealousy over Matilda or fear over the setting.  
  
\--  
  
Slowly Q stood with his father, just because they had guests didn't mean they could stop their work. The steam launch slowly slid into the water.  
  
The long narrow boat had two paddle wheels either side. Between them was a wooden steering and engine house. A canopy covered passenger section sat at the back and a table and seating for the passengers to spend their time pleasantly watching the scenery going by.  
  
Dressed in just breeches and a loose shirt Q helped the other men push the small boat out of the shelter of the shed's boat house.  
  
“New toy?”  
  
“Do grow up Commander Bond. And Just in time,” Geoffrey returned indicating the small berth between the slip and the side of the boat house. “Bring her over, may as well use the seamen,” Geoffrey grumbled to his son in the water.  
  
“I am a retired Commissioned officer and a Merchant Captain, not a seaman,” Alec shot at the old man.  
  
“I'm a seaman,” Ben said, standing at Alec's side.  
  
“Quiet you are damaging my argument,” Alec snapped to his companion.  
  
“Do grow up all of you,” Geoffrey called to all with weary resignation.  
  
Q and the men in the water manoeuvred the boat to the side so James and the rest could get in without getting their clothing wet. They still stripped off their jackets, waistcoats, shirts and shoes. The group were standing at the side of the boat house in just under shirts and trousers, rolled up to the knee.  
  
“I'm captain,” James called. A few grumbles but Alec shouted over Hornblower and Archie declaring themselves every bit capable of being captain, “I'm the driver.”  
  
Q helped his father's men push the lunch out of the shed. “Clear of the roof,” the man at the very back called.  
  
“Weigh anchor,” James ordered in a booming voice, like a child playing at being captain, full of fun and mischief.  
  
Q waded along the side the water up to his chest as he moved along the launch. Usually it was just himself for the first firing and was startled when two strong arms caught his. Hornblower and Archie pulled him onboard.  
  
To Q's right (the stern) was the pleasure area, with seating and a table. To the left was the small wooden hut, the back of which contained the engine. At the front there stood a tall hut with glass windows containing the helm. A narrow passageway ran either side between the hut and the small but still substantial paddle wheels.  
  
“Full steam ahead,” James called from the bow. The view of him blocked by the steering and engine house.  
  
Sticking his head around the engine room and bridge Q saw James standing at the bow with one leg on the prow and a hand resting on his stomach like that painting he saw in a book. “With all due respect Captain bugger off, I'm not bringing the boiler up to full pressure,” Q shot.  
  
The hand on James' stomach shot out, reaching towards the distance. “Whatever steam the chief engineer deems appropriate,” he called in the same cheerful and booming voice.  
  
A rattle and the window at the side of the wheelhouse lowered, Alec sticking out his head. “At least we know who wears the trousers,” he smirked.  
  
“Breeches, I am wearing breeches Lt. Commander,” Q snarked then returned to the engine.  
  
The small space was everything a rich gentleman would want in order to play. There was a polished brass telegraph, even though shouting was sufficient. The handle sticking straight up, the dial it controlled at 'All Stop'.  
  
Hornblower and Archie were sitting at the stern close together and quiet, just watching as Q placed an oiled rag in the firebox along with a small shovelful of coal. He thought, James, Alec and now Hornblower and Archie about a hundred yards away from prying eyes and ears had finally relaxed.  
  
“Need any help?” came the hesitant voice of Alec's companion.  
  
It was a bit of a tight squeeze in the small engine room but neither were overly big men. “Take the spanner, give those bolts a tighten as everything heats up,” Q said. Ben did as instructed, keeping the seams tight as the metal expanded. One of his father's men had some nasty burns from when he set a fire in a new engine and forgot to tighten the nuts getting a faceful of high pressure steam as it hissed out from between the plates of the boiler.  
  
Q tightened a few, showing Ben he needed to constantly find and tighten the bolts as the pressure built.  
  
“This is boring,” Alec called.  
  
“Yes it is,” Q shouted back.  
  
When the boiler got to a quarter pressure Q nudged the man beside him and indicated the wooden handle of the brass telegraph. “All the way to the right then stop the handle above slow ahead.”  
  
Ben grasped the handle, a ringing sounded as he moved it. He left the handle above the 'Slow Ahead'. The needle of the arrow inside the glass front was still at 'All Stop' Then the Telegraph rang as Alec acknowledged the order and accepted 'Slow Ahead'.  
  
“Pull that handle, then slowly turn that anti-clockwise until that goes to 5RPM,” Q said to Ben indicating the brake, handing Ben a cloth as the valve got quite hot and indicating a gauge.  
  
As Ben released the valve the crank for the wheels started turning and a regular chugging built up. “Slowly, you don't want to over shoot the 5RPM and loses all the pressure,” Q encouraged. Ben slowed how fast he was turning the valve. “You'll get the feel for it,” Q reassured.  
  
“Hard to Port MISTER Trevelyan,” Q heard James bellow. “Aye, Aye Sir.”  
  
The sound of splashing was joining the sound of the engine. It was barely noticeable but Q felt the launch beginning to move and turn.  
  
As Q became more confident in the engine he nudged Ben, “Quarter Speed,” he said and indicated the telegraph. Ben sent the message to Alec.  
  
“Engine room says we can have Quarter speed Captain,” they could hear Alec shout. Q looked to Ben and both giggled. Alec and James getting into the spirit and formality, enjoying the launch as the owner was meant to.  
  
“Aye, Quarter speed Mister Trevelyan,” James shouted back.  
  
Q inspected the engine making sure it was not doing anything unexpected. Coming out of the small engine room he spotted Hornblower and Archie reclining at the very back enjoying the view as the fields and forests slowly meandered past. Q was surprised they had moved so far. The shed was looking rather small and Q felt surprised by how reassuring that felt.  
  
Passing the wheelhouse, Alec grinned like a loon as he piloted the launch. Then onto the bow where James had lost his over the top enjoyment and stood, relaxed with his hands behind his back surveying the waters as they progressed.  
  
“Capitan,” Q said coming to stand beside James.  
  
“Chief Engineer,” James returned with a twinkle in his blue eyes.  
  
Seeing a recognised point, a windmill and a barn, “Keep us true,” Q said and lay down on the deck. James relayed the order to keep them going straight. “Give or take, 2 knots,” Q said familiar with the landmarks and able to make an approximate judgement on speed.  
  
“Mister Trevelyan, What's our speed?” James called. “2 Knots Captain.”  
  
“Good eye, Mr Boothroyd,” James said extending his hand to help him up.  
  
Blushing and ducking his head Q thanked James and got a brush of the cheek as a reward along with a brilliant smile. “I wouldn't recommend half speed but I think I can give a little more.”  
  
“Use your best judgement,” James said. Q then returned to the engine room and Ben doing a marvellous job keeping the pressure, fire and revolutions optimally balanced. When Q praised the other man he beamed at him in pride.  
  
“I think we can go a little faster and I have told the Capitan,” Q prompted.  
  
Ben bit his lip, his dark eyes squinting then explained the new but remembered procedure, “Build up the fire to increase pressure before we draw more power.” Q nodded and encouraged Ben to do just that.  
  
First building up the fire. “A third,” Q said tapping the pressure gauge. Ben aired and fed the fire until the pressure rose. “How many revolutions?” Q prompted.  
  
“10,” Ben said, hesitantly.  
  
Q nodded. “There isn't an exact answer, somewhere between 9 up to 12 revolutions. Always stick to your instinct,” Q said. Ben released the valve and increased the speed of the engine.  
  
“Is it not time we headed back?” Hornblower called. Q felt his heart sink, he hadn’t spent much time with James, mostly with Ben helping him at his side but he didn't want to leave.  
  
Q wanted to call out that the lake connected with the Thames and they could escape to France but knew how desperate his voice would sound if he did. So kept quiet as the launch was brought around.  
  
All too soon the view of the shed started to build. A group had gathered on the lawn where a small marquee had been set up, people in light dresses and suits were milling about.  
  
Q snuffed the fire so the plums of black smoke wouldn't be trapped inside the shed. James tossed a rope so the boat could be pulled in. The launch was tied between the slipway and the wall.  
  
Q came out of the shed in his breeches and loose shirt. James and the others hadn't donned their shirts and jackets until they could freshen up. Vesper waved and James and himself waved back. Eve was talking to Sir William. Severine gave him a wonderful smile, so did his father.  
  
Pressed and dressed Q arrived outside to join the others taking a small glass of wine. Ben came up to him. “Thank you,” Ben said indicating the shed and his suit, the trousers he was now wearing a borrowed pair of Q's, his own having gained an oil stain.  
  
“It was my pleasure. I'm usually stuck tending the engine all on my own,” Q responded.  
  
Ben went to find Alec and Q mingled as best he could talking to the daughter of some land owner. She spoke of fashion and who was stepping out with whom. It was boring and the moment Q moved on he had forgotten her. A moment of embarrassment after speaking with a few others and he returned to her and had forgotten their previous interaction.  
  
The pleasantly warm evening wore on and torches were lit. His father caught his eye and indicated a group. Q made his way over, it was the spoiled youngest Bennett girl, Q having quite forgotten her name. He spoke with them briefly then excused himself, hoping 'what's her name' hadn’t noticed he’d forgotten it.  
  
Heading to the perimeter Q was soon bathed in darkness. Hopefully he could have a few solitary moments before returning. Heading to the pond, Q savoured the summer air. Now away from the light he could see the stars before they were masked by the tree lined path.  
  
A quiet voice floated, then Q heard a few more. Apparently more had decided to wander. Some having quiet conversations. Lovers growing closer away from the eyes of the guests and chaperones.  
  
Stepping out into the small glade the sound of the running water a welcome relief as the pond reflected the rising moon.  
  
Starting as his arm was brushed Q snapped his attention to the man who appeared as if from nowhere. James gave him a disarming smile.  
  
They stood quietly, the distant declarations of love floating on the air. The crunch of gravel as people walked the neat paths. A hand brushed Q's and he looked to James, captivated by those eyes. He was leaning in, a warm hand cupped his face and Q tilted it up to the taller man. Lips brushed and Q's heart hammered. “Come to London,” James whispered. All Q could do was nod before their lips brushed again and Q felt James' part and a flick of tongue. With excitement and nervousness he parted his lips and felt James' tongue brush his.  
  
He pulled back with an embarrassed giggle. It was all so strange, exciting and nervous. A crash made James and Q spring apart. Eve was on the path leading to the glade running away.  
  
“Eve I'm...” Sir William trailed off pushing branches aside to also come onto the path. He looked a little nervous and stuttered something about having to find Eve then walked away quickly.  
  
“Did they see?” Q asked in a panic.  
  
James shook his head. “I think Eve has her own problems,” James said watching Sir William try and catch up.  
  
The night ended with Severine in the house with Eve while Sir William skulked away without anyone's notice. Q walked with James and the rest to the stables thanking them for coming and with a heavy heart watched them leave.  
  
Heading to the house he found Vesper coming out of Eve's room shaking her head. “Is she alright?” Q asked.  
  
Vesper shook her head again. “Sir William said he loved her but the scandal of marrying someone of her colour would be too damaging to him.”  
  
“Oh,” Q said at a loss for anything else. He too noticed the native blood within his sister but over their time she had just become the sister he didn't get on with. He didn't want to see her scorned for something so trivial and truly didn't want to see her unhappy. “Tell her my thoughts are with her,” Q said.  
  
Waking the next morning Q came downstairs and entered the small breakfast room. His father sat at the head of the table with the window behind him, his mother at the foot. Q helped himself to some eggs, thick bacon and a slice of toast. The butler poured him a coffee as he sat.  
  
He’d started to eat when Eve entered, back ramrod straight and as composed as ever. Whatever rejection she had been feeling the night before was buried. She sat across from Q, to the left of his father and Vesper beside her. With a boiled egg sitting in a cup she cracked it open. Q was debating if he should commiserate her for Sir William's conduct.  
  
Then those dark eyes flicked to him and Q was scared. There was hate and anger in them. Her voice however was completely innocent and curious. “I see you and Mr Bond are stepping out.”  
  
Q stilled.  
  
“Oh how wonderful, Mr Bond is so...” Vesper said with genuine curiosity and excitement then trailed off reading the mood of the room.  
  
Slowly Geoffrey lowered his paper. “I take it Eve saw something and misinterpreted?”  
  
'LIE, lie, lie' Q's mind ordered him. He couldn't, he’d never needed to lie to his father once. Doing it now wasn't so easy. “I, I, I...” Q couldn't do it and dropped his head, shame and fear coursing through him.  
  
His father's fist hitting the table made him jump with the sudden violent act. “NO!” he bellowed, the sound bouncing around the small room.  
  
“Geoffrey,” Severine called softly.  
  
Q managed to look up. Eve was cowering but not because of his father, it was her mother she was cowering from. Vesper was clearly confused and keeping her head down, trying to attract the attention of no one.  
  
“Leave us,” Severine ordered the servants. “There is to be no gossip,” she added in a tone that promised suffering if the servants failed to obey.  
  
When they were alone she looked at her husband. “It is out now. I am truly surprised you didn't see before now.”  
  
Q glanced at her, an old suspicion confirmed and wondering what she would do. If his father disowned him now her future would be secure. She would never be destitute again.  
  
“You Knew!” his father bellowed.  
  
“Of course, there are dozens at the courts of Britain and Europe. The ones who have wives they are forced to marry and cannot lie with. Then there are the ones who never marry, with rumours swirling round them. There was that Vicar's daughter and Eve. He was far too patient with both. Matilda, he never led on but also never showed interest.  If he was truly interested he would have married her. If he had been almost any other man he would have used Matilda and discarded her.”  
  
Just as his mother was about to continue his father stood far quicker than he had done in years. “NO this is wrong, it’s a sin.”  
  
“A sin!” Severine snapped. “You put as much stock in that book as you do a book of fairy tales.”  
  
“It is also a crime. Perhaps I should call for a policeman. A bit of hard labour might sort him out,” Geoffrey bellowed. Q ran.  
  
Everyone watched as the door was ripped open and Q vanished. Severine turned to her husband, standing as she did so. “I truly thought you were a better man than that,” she spat and followed.  
  
Rushing up stairs she rounded the balcony and entered the corridor to Q's room. The door flung open to a frantic Q inside trying to pack but unable to coordinate himself. Severine remembered that feeling, like the hounds had been released and any intelligence or grace was always ten steps behind the physical body.  
  
Catching Q by the shoulders she struggled to still him. Then those frightened and wild eyes looked to her. “Go to Mr Bond,” Severine instructed. She knew he wouldn't stay so wanted him to have a clear goal in mind but as she looked, she could see Q wanted to hide. Somewhere his father wouldn't look and she grew concerned. “Promise me you'll write. To me or Vesper, you can use a false name just let us know you are alright,” Severine insisted giving him a shake.  
  
“Promise,” Severine said again and got a nodding, “Say it!”  
  
“I promise to write,” Q said.  
  
Severine nodded and took the shirt from his grasp folding it. “Three jackets, trousers and as many shirts, underwear and ties as you can fit,” she advised pulling open the bag on the bed. It was deep and opened at the top. She folded and packed as Q handed her items.  
  
She took his arm and walked him out to the stables. Severine saw the old man responsible for the horses. She immediately knew the servants had talked and the rumours were spreading. “Saddle Master Quinn's favourite horse.” She felt the man, still a boy really tense at her side. She let her expression darken and it had the desired effect on the groom. The grey and black mottled mare was soon saddled and Q mounted.  
  
She watched as he charged around the house and out of view. Heading into the house Severine found her daughters in Eve's room. Ripping open the door she charged in and slapped Eve. “That was vile. Quinn has done nothing to you. You have shown him nothing but contempt and scorn and he has overlooked it all.”  
  
“He was mocking me,” Eve spat holding her cheek.  
  
“You are frightened, hate filled and are seeing things,” Severine said and held her hand out for Vesper. “Come.”  
  
Taking Vesper's hand she walked with her to Vesper's room. “Mother, I don't understand?”  
  
In truth neither did Severine. Shaking her head, “Once upon a time a messiah was born. Then later a man trading on the messiah's name said a man who lies with another man should be put to death, ignoring that the original message was about forgiveness and love, not suffering. Then much later more men said a man who lies with another man should kill themselves by doing work they could not force an animal to do. Now your brother is frightened and feels he is running for his life.”  
  
Vesper looked to her in terror. “But Q and Mr Bond... if they love each other... why is it wrong?”  
  
Severine shrugged. “We must do what we can. Can you go to London on your own?” Severine asked and got a nod, it would be the first big journey Vesper would do alone.  
  
She helped her daughter to pack. “You will go to Commander Bond. Tell him Geoffrey knows about Q and there’s been an argument after which Q ran away. Tell him that I got Q to promise to write and I will send word when I hear from him. If Commander Bond hears from Q, write and let me know.”  
  
“Yes mother,” Vesper responded.  
  
Walking with her Severine watched as the carriage was prepared and the man who reluctantly saddled Q's horse climbed up. “Good luck,” Severine called and slammed the door.  
  
Looking round she saw smoke coming from the small chimney that stuck out from the conservatory that acted as a laboratory for her husband and son. Only two people were allowed in there and as one was now somewhere else, Severine went to see her husband.  
  
Opening the glass door she saw the man sitting at the central table holding one of those vicious looking things Q had been building. “I wish to be alone,” Geoffrey grumbled.  
  
“You are, Quinn left an hour ago and Vesper left a few moments ago. I do not support or agree with you. So one heart-broken girl who wanted to lash out is all the company you share,” Severine said coming round to the side. There were eight of those bronze things laid out. She could see no difference but the fact they were placed in a careful grid indicated there was a difference between them.  
  
Picking one of the things up, the sticky out bit that looked like knife blades was quite dull. “You said commander Bond would be a good match for Vesper. If he is good enough for my daughter why is he not good enough for your son?”  
  
“They are men,” Geoffrey snapped. Severine responded sharply, “That is a statement of fact. Not an argument.”  
  
“It is a sin,” Geoffrey said. As she pointed out before, her husband never put stock in that book and nor did she. If it wouldn't cause a scandal in the village they need not even attend that small and draughty church. “Progress is your faith. Engineering your religion. Those science books your bible. Where in those things that you actually believe in, does it say two men in love is an abomination?”  
  
“It is unnatural,” Geoffrey said. Severine argued, “So are the great leviathans of ships crossing the sea, weapons that can kill hundreds, explosives that rival the might of God. Yet you have guided Quinn to build them all.”  
  
Those eyes looked to her in anger, Severine hoped Geoffrey was more than the husbands and men she knew. She hoped he would come to understand and overcome whatever objections he had.  
  
Quinn had been suspicious of her, that was easy to tell and why she was marrying his father but he never let it affect him or their relationship. He had been honourable throughout and a loving brother to Vesper and even Eve got more than she deserved from him. She would fight for her son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where the Cinderella concept starts to break down. In the original planning it was Severine that announced the kiss between James and Q, in a play to disinherit Q and secure her future and fortune. I was always going to have Vesper side with Q(running away to London together) but as I thought about their past I backed away from the Cinderella(wicked stepmother and sisters) story line.
> 
> The reason Vesper was more open to Q was that she didn't see her father(Silva) as the monster that Severine and Eve did. That is why Eve was determined to put a wedge between herself and new family. Vesper could read Q and saw he was not abusive or cruel so is siding with him in the argument.


	6. Returning Q

Vesper was excited and a little nervous. This was the furthest she’d ever travelled without her mother or sister. There was a vague wish Q was here, she’d wanted to see the fashion houses with him.  
  
The single horse drawn cab pulled to a stop in front of a rather nice town house. The cabdriver pulled her bag down and helped her step out.  
  
With a deep breath she paid him and climbed up the half dozen steps to the white faced building. Seeing a handle hanging down Vesper grasped and pulled it down. A rather long faced man with thinning hair appeared dressed in a suit. She didn't think he was a butler or a footman.  
  
“Miss Vesper Lynd Silva to see Commander Bond urgently,” Vesper said to him. There was a nod and she was allowed into the tiled foyer.  
  
The floor was in black and white mosaic with stairs leading up to a landing then turning to go the rest of the way up. There were three doors, one on the back wall under the landing, one to the left and another to the right. It was all stark and masculine, not a picture or flowers to be seen.  
  
“Wait here,” the man said.  
  
He then knocked and entered the door to the left just at the foot of the stairs. He came out and indicated she should go in. The room was rather cluttered spanning the depth of the house. The front of the room had settees and couches. The back had desks and shelves of books.  
  
Vesper was acutely aware of the servant behind her and Alec and the younger one who came to the house a few days ago. Usually she didn't notice servants but her mother's dismissal of them during the fight was weighing on her along with how wrong people thought her brother was.  
  
“Could I have a private word,” Vesper said to the standing gentleman who was her target.  
  
James looked to the servant behind her. “That will be all Villiers.”  
  
When the servant left James indicated the two other men in the room, “There are no secrets with them.”  
  
She was nervous. “It's about brother and you,” Vesper said hoping James would dismiss the other men.  
  
“What's wrong?” Alec demanded leaning forward. The younger dark haired man sat up,  concern written all over his face.  
  
“Speak,” James ordered and it was done so softly and gently with a hidden force that she was compelled to do so before she could think.  
  
“Father knows about you and brother. There was a big argument and father mentioned the police so Quinn ran away. Mother hoped he would come here but she wasn't expecting him to.”  
  
James and Alec exchanged glances. James too experienced, knowing the likelihood of success if he went charging off.  
  
Alec shaking his head. “I thought the old coot would be stuck in his ways but the police, that one is downright cruel. His own son.” Sympathy for Q and concern in his words.  
  
James suddenly looked to Vesper. “Friends? Acquaintances? Favourite places?” he demanded.  
  
Vesper shook her head. James and the others the only friends she knew of and the shed being his only favourite place.  
  
“Mother got him to promise to write. She was more hopeful about him writing,” Vesper said.  
  
Seeing the bags just inside the room and hoping to have an ear closer to the Boothroyd household, James asked, “Have you a place to stay?”  
  
Vesper shook her head and explained about a boarding house her mother recommended. James added, “I insist. Villiers will show you upstairs. Stay for as long as you need.”  
  
Vesper gave a pleased smile and amongst the thanks she said, “Mother wished me to remain in London in case you heard from Q before her. She and I are quite worried, he is a good brother and son”  
  
James called for Villiers and waited until Vesper was out of the drawing room before rounding on Alec letting his anger show. “That old Bastard,” James growled, the long held respect for the teacher, a loved uncle or second father gone. Pacing because he needed to do something but couldn't without having an idea where Q was.  
  
Alec had his own thoughts on Boothroyd but kept quiet pulling Ben closer and tucking the dark head of hair under his chin, gaining comfort from giving comfort. “Will Q be alright?” Ben hesitantly asked.  
  
“As soon as we find him, YES,” James said to the smaller man tucked under Alec's chin for a moment remembering how the young man had spoken of Q and their time tending the engine. Of Q and his patience, being at sea patience was not a virtue of most teachers. Time and the danger of the environment meant teaching was quick, brutal and emphasised with a belt.  
  
\--  
  
It had been nearly a week since Vesper arrived with the news. She had gone to bed a few hours ago. Alec was at the desk going over the plans for his newest command the SS Great Western. Ben was to act as his personal steward during the voyage. He was reading on the settee waiting until Alec could go to bed with him.  
  
“She's rather pleasant,” James said to the room not really wanting to talk but unable to stand the silence.  
  
“She is, I can see why Q likes her,” Ben said. Alec only gave a hum in response, concentrating on his work.  
  
“She is curious, 'What's it like to be a man in love with another man?' 'Is it like Romeo and Juliet?' She is quite a romantic for forbidden love,” Ben said then grew quiet a moment. Overhearing what had happened to Q causing him concern, “Is it safe to talk to her?”  
  
There Ben had James. Vesper did seem to care for her brother and was worried about him but one wrong person knowing about them could land them all doing hard labour.  
  
“The mother pounds to pence, she's the tart with a heart sort,” Alec called from the back of the room, still not looking up.  
  
The door opened and Villiers stepped in. “Admiral Hargreaves,” he announced.  
  
The Admiral stepped in after Villiers announced him. Alec stood to greet their old Commanding officer and mentor.  After the niceties were out of the way the long faced man with dark hair around the side and back of his bald head looked James up and down, pointedly ignoring Ben standing by Alec. The Admiral was fully aware of the lifestyle of a young man trapped on a boat for months on end and knowing when some did not put the lifestyle behind them when returned to land.  
  
“I went to see old Boothroyd, he’d not updated me on his son's invention. Got some waffle about young Quinn being unwell, the man could never lie and I don't think he understands his son's train of thought.”  
  
“Sir,” Alec called, stopping the Admiral from droning on and on until he eventually voiced his question. “Q and his father had a falling out and Q has not been seen since.”  
   
“BLAST!” Hargreaves shouted. “I’ve seen a basic plan for something similar and had hoped Quinn could beat his competitor to the punch. Brunel is making quite enough money from us as it is. I do not want to have to pay him for every one of those fan things as well.”  
  
“Well that is that,” Hargreaves said and gave his goodbyes.  
  
\--  
  
Vesper woke. The room James had given her was basic and very masculine, a wooden bed, dresser and wardrobe all in a wood so dark it looked black. The sheets were like when she first arrived at her new father's, warm, practical, hard wearing and scratchy.  
  
Getting up she moved to the dresser, washed and dressed then picked up the chamber pot. Villiers being more of a house keeper than a man servant everyone was meant to pitch in and look after themselves. James had been a little bashful as he explained this. Vesper didn't explain her reasons but she reassured she was accustomed to having to take care of herself, no servants to do things for her.  
  
Coming downstairs she carried on the kitchen on basement level. She sluiced then washed the chamber pot into the drain.  
  
When she returned to the kitchen Villiers was up starting the range. Helping with the breakfast Vesper pulled open a cupboard. Everyone drank coffee but there was a small caddy of tea beside the jar of coffee beans. When she first noticed she opened it to find the tea untouched and recognised the citrus scent of the blend her brother enjoyed. A small hope from James that her brother would visit.  
  
Pulling the jar of beans she poured them into the funnel of the grinder and placed the metal cylinder of the percolator's filter under the spout and started turning the big wheel. Filling and reassembling the thing that looked like jug she placed it on the range to heat. Continuing she helped Villiers prepare the breakfast.  
  
James was the first down followed by Ben and Alec. When everything was ready they sat around the kitchen table eating. Strangely, for most servants Villiers sat with them as they ate and she and Villiers continued to sit as James, Alec and Ben cleared and washed the dishes.  
  
A tinkling came from the series of bells on the wall. The one with the 'Front Door' painted behind the bell was still swaying on a coiled spring. Identifying the source Villiers pulling on his suit jacket and headed up the stairs to answer.  
  
Returning a few moments later he called to James, “Madam Boothroyd to see you and Miss Vesper, Sir.”  
  
Vesper followed James upstairs to find her mother sitting in the drawing room. James nodded to her and Vesper went to sit beside her. After the brief catch up to ensure her daughter was well Severine handed over an opened envelope explaining she didn't want to make the trip needlessly so had been reading any post she couldn't identify.  
  
Vesper read the letter, then handed it to James.  
  
    Dearest Vesper  
  
I wished to let you know I have settled in and found meaningful  
employment. It is work I truly enjoy and find fulfilling.  
    I have taken rooms with a rather nice landlady. Very grumpy  
but always has a meal ready no matter what time I get home.  
    I will write again. Pleases send my love to your mother and if  
you get the chance could you send a letter to J explaining the situation.  
Extending my best wishes to J as well.  
  
    Yours Faithfully, Yusef Kabira  
  
James knew who it was from but couldn't help asking, “Yusef Kabira?”  
  
“A drip who is so in love with me, writes me letters often but he has never been to Glasgow,” Vesper said. James was stumped, there was deliberately nothing to reference location and no return address.  
  
“The stamp Commander Bond,” Severine said in a tone only a weary mother could ever muster at James’ confusion.  
  
James looked at the envelope in his other hand. There the penny black with the profile of the Queen's head had a round rubber stamp indicating it had been posted within the city of Glasgow.  
  
'Meaningful', 'enjoy', 'fulfilling' there was only one career that Q would describe like that. From a country, possibly the empire, James' target area was quickly narrowing. “The Clyde yards,” James whispered.  
  
James yanked the door open shouting at Alec as he tore up the stairs to his bedroom. There aren’t so many shipyards on the Clyde. It would be a challenge but James was determined.  
  
Coming out of his room James saw Vesper dressed and lugging the same bag she arrived with. “I am coming to,” she insisted.  
  
At the bottom of the stairs James saw Alec hadn’t packed then remembered he had a transatlantic crossing tomorrow, the maiden voyage. The unofficial order he had the break a record. “Go get him,” Alec said.  
  
James charged out with Vesper trailing after him. Alec, Severine, Ben and Villiers stood on the top step. “TAXI,” James bellowed as the hackney cab flew past.  
  
Stepping out onto the street. James fixed eyes with the driver until he pulled to a stop. Handing up the bags he ushered Vesper in then knocked the roof. “Paddington Station. Don't spare the horses.”  
  
The scenery flew past the train window. James couldn't sit still, his knee bounced and he wanted to pace but there wasn’t enough room.  
  
Finally the day darkened and the clear country air grew heavy with the smoke of the city. The train crossed the river, the big cranes of the ship yards seemed so close James felt  he could touch them. They split, Vesper indicating she’d head to the hotel attached to the station allowing James to continue his quest.  
  
He was too late, James kicked the heavy gate to the closest shipyard. He ran the length of the Clyde until getting to it. The workers had gone for the night and James cursed himself, hoping to ask at one yard at least before they closed for the night. The sound had shifted from the industrial to the men drinking in the pubs, shouting wives and squalling children.  
  
Returning to the Hotel in a sombre mood James stilled a moment. In the lounge full of travellers Vesper had commandeered a chair with a low table and couches around it. While other larger groups were huddled together in cramped conditions, some sent Vesper angry glances. On the table was a teapot, a three tiered cake stand. Maps, books and  pieces of paper were also placed around the table.  
  
Approaching Vesper didn't look up and held up a piece of paper with addresses, all in pencil. “Given Q's expertise these are the places most likely to interest him,” Vesper said.  
  
James sat on a couch and waived over a waiter while Vesper continued to work away. Ordering a drink and something to eat he watched the young woman. While every instinct he had said start at the closest dock yard, she was trying to find the most likely.  
  
James picked up a pamphlet. It was a flyer for a dockyard boasting about the ship it was building, an ocean going paddle steamer. There were notes written and words highlighted throughout in pencil. The note 'conventional not innovative' meant it may be boring to Q. 'Royal Naval links', meant he may try to avoid it.  
  
Picking up another pamphlet for a small boat builder making boats and launches for smaller operators and ferrymen James noted the address was on Vesper's list.  
  
A snapping finger, a hand held out was directed to James with the demand, “List,” and another snap of the fingers. Handing over the list another address was added to it. Then the map was the full focus of Vesper's attention. “McKay and Son first then on to Ferguson's...” Vesper plotted the most efficient route to her primary targets.  
  
James actually retired that night feeling better since Vesper had arrived. Her focussed determination was rather reassuring. He still woke long before the dawn, washing and dressing. He went to Vesper's door, just because he was champing at the bit didn't mean he could drag her.  
  
Wondering if he could go to the closest yard and back before Vesper woke, her door opened and she was dressed and ready. Her long velvet dress looked almost black until the light hit it and it became a purple or red. “Ready?” Vesper said.  
  
She took his arm and they started walking.  
  
There it was the first on Vesper's list, a small boatyard with thin wooden fencing covered in branding. The wooden gates flung open as men just arrived for work. They stood across the street as heavy men with thick arms and small nimble men all bone and sinew arrived in thick overalls, most wearing caps. Different ages from boys that looked like they should be in school to old men with white beards down to their buckles.  
  
A few arrived in suits and went to a small red brick building separate from the shed. A mast flew the Saltire. Slowly the noise built up from the larger wooden sheds of constant banging and crashing. With no sign of Q James lead the way in, he was determined to ask at least.  
  
They headed for the smaller brick built building opening the door. It was a design room with model boats on any available surface and plans on the walls. “I thought Q's lab was cluttered,” Vesper whispered, her father and brother's lab seemed comparatively tidy to this one.  
  
“Yes, I'm looking fer the lass' brother. Had a bit o'a falling oot wa his pa” James said. Vesper snapped her attention to him. The thick Scots brogue not what she had been expecting from the dashing Commander. “He'd be a bit of a toff looking for some werk, good heed on his shoulders.”  
  
“Aye I remember him,” a voice called from a man sitting at a sloped design table.”Naw references, offert ta werk fer free, ta see how he was. The gaffer did'na take him up on it.”  
  
“His name's Quinn is he still using it?” James called.  
  
“Naw, James Deamis,” the man at the design table returned.  
  
“Ta pal,” James said and guided a confused Vesper out.  
  
“What was that?” Vesper demanded as they made their way to the next destination.  
  
“The accent or what happened?” James teased then sobered giving a quick explanation of both. “I am Scots, came from the Highlands. They recognised Q but didn't hire him and he’s using the name James Deamis.”  
  
At the next place James saw a Union Jack fluttering on the breeze indicating the proprietor was a patriot but did not view himself as Scottish before being British. “A different tack for this one,” James whispered.  
  
The administration building was a two story structure with two boat sheds on either side of it. James handed over his card to the person who greeted them, then grasped Vesper's hand. As he half expected a rather round Englishman appeared.  
  
“Mr Turner, Commander Bond how may I be of assistance?” the man said almost bowing in his fawning and holding out a hand. Grasping it James felt the softness of the palm. One of the reasons he was so intrigued by Q, for a man that looked like he should have soft hands indicating an easy life Q' fingers were unexpectedly strong with hard calluses at the base of his fingers.  
  
“Mr Turner,” James returned, “at my fiancée's request I have decided to retire before we settle down together. On the condition I have something to occupy my time. I was thinking of a steam launch, about 42'. Something friends and I could relive our glory days with an area for guests or wives to enjoy the passing scenery. In water purposes.”  
  
The man rubbed his hands with glee. “I will call our chief designer.”  
  
“Why don't we go see him? I’d like to see the factory floor so to speak,” James said.  
  
With an almost bow Mr Turner waved them to a door. Inside there was a row of sloped tables back to back along the centre of the small room. All the light came from lamps and candles.  
  
The thin man hunched over the sloped desk drew a rowboat with paddle wheels on the side. “I was looking for something more ornate, like a miniature ship,” James said.  
  
After half an hour of variations of a rowboat with paddle wheels James started to get frustrated which was his aim. “Is there no one better?” James insisted.  
  
He stormed out with Vesper on his heels. “You didn't ask about Quinn,” Vesper hissed.  
  
James shook his head. “If Q had been here the owner would have pulled him out to save the commission.”  
  
The day had been long and tiring. If they hurried they could get to the last place on Vesper's first list. The next list was of less likely employers and the third list were the ones they would look at if all else failed.  
  
They were led into a light and airy office. The windows on three walls gave views of the rather large boat yard. On the back wall were framed photos. One caught James' notice and his heart sank. It was the launch of HMS Vulcan. Three men stood with the recently launched ship behind them. Then James saw himself and Q in the background standing on the edge of the dock looking at the ship.  
  
A man entered, at first James thought he was an employee due to the blue overalls and oil stained hands and thick forearms. Only the face gave him away, he’d been standing in the centre of the picture, alerting James that this was the owner of the yard.  
  
He was a tall man with a brush head of a moustache and an easy going smile that James didn't buy. It was Vesper that impressed him as she seemed to see through this man as well. Crushing down on the desire to bring the man's attention to the photograph James used the same excuse as before, a commission for a pleasure boat.  
  
Using the same ploy in an attempt to see where the designers worked the owner refused, some claptrap about other clients and confidentiality. The initial concept he brought back was all the proof James needed. He’d seen the boat built and working and had a wonderful time on it.  
  
“I would like a full costing before we proceed,” James said and they made an appointment to meet in a few days time.  
  
Grasping Vesper's hand they walked out. “Q was there,” Vesper said quietly. It was a statement of fact not a recrimination of James not bringing up the subject of Q with the owner.  
  
“I don’t trust Mr Ayrs,” James confirmed. “I think he knows who Q is. I also suspect he may know Q is in some form of trouble which brings up Mr Ayrs' motivation. Is he trying to protect and keep a gifted engineer safe, which I doubt or does he see visions of an empire built on the back of Q's work and ingenuity.”  
  
They waited and watched the yard empty. When James saw Q his jealously sky-rocketed,  Ayrs had a burly arm around Q and they were talking and joking before he released Q. Taking a steadying breath James crossed the street and stood before the approaching pair.  
  
“You,” Ayrs said, a low growl rumbling in his broad chest.  
  
“Q, can we talk?” James said as the bigger man stepped in front of Q.  
  
Those green and worried eyes looked round the protecting mass of the yard owner. James felt everything else become a little less important as he saw those eyes. There was a shake of the head and James felt something grip deep down.  
  
“Brother please? Commander Bond has offered you a place to stay and people are getting desperate, Admiral Hargreaves came looking for you. Mother said the workers are worried for the future of the shed and their livelihoods,” Vesper pleaded.  
  
James pitched his voice lower and hoped Q would come but couldn't bear forcing him and was concerned about the public setting. “I won't force you but know this, you always have a place to stay and you should also know your picture is in Ayrs' office. I suspect Mr Ayrs knows who you are. He probably knows of your involvement with Nemesis and HMS Vulcan. Whatever his intentions please be careful,” James said. He then took a few steps back. If Q wanted to go he would have to be the one who walked away.  
  
Q looked at the yard owner and saw the truth of James' words. The Man knew exactly who he was. “We can build something great,” Ayrs said not trying to hide the exposed truth.  
  
James saw it. In that moment Q looked far older than his eighteen years. He was weary and tired. Stepping up to him James wound his arm around Q's with Vesper taking the other arm. “Come on lets go home,” James said.  
  
“We could build together! Build the future! Bridge the continents! I took you in when everyone else turned you away!” Ayrs shouted after them, his voice getting quieter with every footstep.  
  
They found the tenement where Q had been staying. The little old woman who opened the door had an old sagging face, her left eye milky. She looked very much like a storybook witch. “Lad,” she shouted seeing Q propped up between James and Vesper.  
  
“We are here for my Brother's things. It's time he came home,” Vesper said.  
  
James sat in the small kitchen with the sombre Q. Vesper packed Q's things as the little old woman pottered about. Seeing the old woman pull out a stool and start to clamber up James had visions of her falling. Standing he offered to get whatever she was wanting. “Up there, it'll fix the lad right up.” she said.  
  
James reached up to the highest shelf of the pantry, feeling something soft he pulled it. The loaf of bread was far heaver than he expected. James smiled he vaguely remembered this from his childhood. A friend of his fathers' would send a loaf of bread. “Just the stuff” James purred and lifted off the cut end of the bread pulling out the hidden bottle with the clear liquid inside.  
  
The old woman poured a glass handing it to James and the other to Q. James savoured the burn of the Water of Life as it would have been before the law said it had to be aged.  
  
Encouraging Q to take a sip he started choking and gasping. “What the hell is that?” Q rasped his voice hoarse, turning angry eyes on the illicit un-matured whisky.  
  
It worked better than James hoped. Q was so focused on his burning throat and taking careful breaths it had snapped him out of his stupor. James chuckled and patted the younger man on the back.  
  
“Told'ya it'd werk,” the little old landlady said downing a glass with barely a twitch.  
  
“Thank you Mrs Stubbs,” Q wheezed out still giving the odd hack to clear his hurting throat.  
  
When Vesper arrived with Q's bag James gave over more than Q's boarding rent. She thanked James and gave Q a few words showing them out.  
  
James and Vesper backed away. It looked like she wanted to make sure Q was not in any trouble. A few men brushed past James jostling him. They were in suits and carried books looking like the privileged idiots that had joined the navy after attending the best universities. James had always liked bringing them down to earth, or sea and teaching them hard work.  
  
The land lady started shouting at them to mind their manners as they moved past her and into the house. She followed them in shouting about washing up before supper.  
  
James looked to Q. The narrow street lined with houses. Children being called in by their mothers. Men starting to arrive home.  
  
“Home,” Vesper prompted.  
  
James saw Q blush and James felt himself wanting to as well. He and Q had spent some time just watching each other then he’d started looking into those green captivating eyes again.  
  
Vesper got fed up watching another round of longing gazes between star crossed lovers. She marched up to Q taking his arm pulling him back along the street and snagging James' arm on the way past him.  
  
Soon Vesper was sitting across from James and Q. They were in a private compartment of the train to London. James kept trying to close the distance but Q kept pulling away.  
  
“Q,” James called softly. Reluctantly Q looked up to James his fringe falling over his eyes where fear and hope stormed. James smiled and lay his hand between them. “You are safe now.”  
  
Q flicked his eyes to Vesper. His sister was looking on, silently goading him to bridge the distance. Then he looked to James again, that soft smile and those eyes, so full of hope and love. Q couldn't deny him any longer. Suppressing his fear he moved his hand to rest on James' feeling the shorter thicker fingers, the rough skin just as he remembered from when they lay on that beach.  
  
With a rapidly beating heart they arrived in London. James grasped his hand as they stepped out of a carriage. In front of him was a narrow town house, its white frontage and seemed to loom up. “Home,” James said and led him up to the front door greeting the man who opened the door with a nod and, “Villiers.”  
  
He was guided up stairs and into a bedroom that Q could tell wasn’t a guest room. The worry that things were moving too fast were quashed by James saying, “With Vesper staying we are out of guest rooms. I will use Alec's while he is away. You use this one.”  
  
Q sent James a smile. “Thank you,” Q said.  
  
James cleared out some space for him in a drawer and in the wardrobe then looked at him closing the distance. Q felt James cup his face and he leaned into the touch. Closing his eyes Q felt safe.  
  
“I'll leave.”  
  
“NO!” Q suddenly snapped taking himself by surprise as much as James. In that moment he did not want James to leave.  
  
Grasping the hand on his cheek Q walked backwards and sat on the bed. Shuffling over he made room, “Please stay?”    
  
James sat feeling nerves like he had never felt before. Not even his first time had he felt this jittery. Lying down fully clothed James and Q looked at each other. Then James turned to lie on his back, pulling Q to rest his head on his chest.  
  
“I missed you,” James said.  
  
“We have been apart far longer,” Q returned. It had only been a slightly over a month since they saw each other last.  
  
“You weren't in trouble then and I knew where you were,” James said starting to stoke Q's back, feeling the worry seeping out of him. The weight of the other man reassuring and a comfort. By the way Q was also relaxing the feeling was mutual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot this, the inspiration for the Paddle steamer Q was building.
> 
> <http://oldsteamers.com/the-worlds-smallest-commercial-paddle-steamer/>


	7. New Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and kudos.

Q opened his eyes. He’d only been waking up like this for about two weeks now. The skin under his cheek was bare and the chest underneath gave a soft reassuring rumble. After the first time they fell asleep together, they had repeated the experience of closeness every night since. At first there had been underwear, James not owning pyjamas. Then slowly James started to wear less, Q followed and now they slept nude.  
  
The explorations started. In private kisses were shared freely and often. James assured Villiers was like them and James had gone to great lengths to find someone who would understand the delicacies of the situation.  
  
Q remembered the first time James brought him to completion with just his hand. It felt so wrong and right. Now Q loved the sensations James stirred in him and Q brought his hand down James' chest and stomach tickling and caressing the skin under his fingers.  
  
James tried to show Q other things that sounded rather dirty but assured him were enjoyable. So far Q had not built up the courage to try them although something made him want to.  
  
There was the day James put his mouth around his manhood. Q felt mortified by the act that left him shuddering. He then tried to do it and couldn't. The moment he tasted the musky flesh he baulked and retched. Everything said it was wrong. James said he enjoyed using his mouth in such a way and didn't mind Q that couldn't. James had reassured him there was no offence and the taste of another man was an acquired one. As time progressed and Q became accustomed to the taste of James' lips, skin and mouth, the idea of trying again slowly returned.  
  
But this Q liked. Skimming his hand lower, playing with the short wiry hair then Q grasped the manhood. It soon hardened with even the gentlest of touches. There was a thrust of James' hips. It was familiar from holding himself but odd and strange to hold another man in such a way.  
  
Feeling James wake and giving a chuckle that shook the chest under his cheek. “Enjoying yourself?” James teased.  
  
“Yes,” Q responded kissing the chest under his cheek and continued to play with James' manhood. Then he felt a hand travel down his back. A thick finger skimmed in between his buttocks. It was something Q wanted and James agreed to take it slowly until Q was more comfortable.  
  
James played with the place Q had never considered to be of any use in enjoyment. Even though he washed the area the night before there was a lingering feeling of doing something dirty. Just the fingertip entered him and pulled out then massaged the opening.  
  
James shuddered and gasped and Q felt the release. Looking up he saw the heavy lids of the man he loved. Stretching up Q pressed his lips to James'.  
  
“Good morning, love,” James whispered.  
  
“You are such a romantic,” Q teased. In the private places James always called him that. The man didn’t hesitate to declare his love on the first morning they woke together.  
  
“You enjoy it,” James shot back and pressed his lips to Q's again.  
  
“Yes I do and I love you too,” Q responded.  
  
\--  
  
Severine arrived, she’d brought three trunks and several bags with her. Indicating the smallest trunk, “Your father packed that one at Admiral Hargreaves' insistence.”    
  
When Q opened it, it was the neatly packed fans he had been experimenting with along with his notes and documentation.  
  
“Admiral Hargreaves?” Q confirmed. There was a nod from his Mother. His Father was not reaching out to him he was simply complying with an order. James grasped his shoulder in comfort and he looked up.  
  
James, Villiers, Vesper and Q took the baggage upstairs. There had been no announcement but just like himself, Vesper had moved in. James had adapted to Vesper's presence and even enjoyed having her there. Q for his part was thrilled to have his sister’s company.  
  
\--  
  
Lying in each other's arms Q had come to a decision. “You don't have to do this. What is mine is yours, in everything,” James was trying to insist.  
  
“I do not want to be your kept boy,” Q said. James argued it wasn't like that.  
  
“I need to work and I insist on paying my way,” Q reiterated.  
  
James rolled on top of him, Q getting kisses. “Just know you don't have to do something you object to. You could open your own boat yard and build only that which you choose,” James said.  
  
Which brought the discussion back to square one. “That sounds good and when I can afford it I will but I need work, now,” Q said.  
  
“Stubborn,” James teased and gave up kissing Q until he lost this train of thought and started to respond to his body rather than focus on what was going on inside that head of his.  
  
\--  
  
Hargreaves didn't waste time. A day after sending the letter to him he arrived on the doorstep. James and Q sat in the drawing room with him.  
  
“This delay has been quite inconvenient,” Hargreaves grumbled. James cleared his throat discouraging Hargreaves from continuing his line of speech.  
  
“I apologises that being disowned was so inconvenient, Admiral Hargreaves. I am willing to return to my work. However, the terms and conditions need to change. There must be a retainer and regular income,” Q stated.  
  
“Damned impudent,” Hargreaves grumbled.  
  
“Yes I am. I can also design a prototype ship immediately,” Q confirmed.  
  
Hargreaves grumbled a bit. Then paced continuing to grumble to himself as much as talk to Q. “I will need to speak to Roebuck and Messervy. If you start today can you have the prototype ready before Brunel has finished his new ship?”  
  
“I don't see why not.”  
  
\--  
  
Q's heart hammered. James was at his side, Vesper the other. Officially James had come to see some old friends while Vesper was to be is assistant, just as Q had been when his father attended these meetings.  
  
When they arrived at the Royal Navy dockyard in Plymouth they were lead to an ornate building and into a panelled room with large paintings of famous ships and battles. A large oval table held a full seating of old and angry looking men in full dress Naval uniform. Q could feel they already disregarded him due to his age.    
  
James barged his way in confirming to Q he was here for him and not the friends. Then a younger man came in and sat at the last empty seat. Q nodded in greeting to Hornblower.  
  
Hargreaves, Messervy and the most senior of the Admirals, Roebuck were also there and the three formidable friends of his father were amongst the least hostile of the group.  
  
Handing papers to Vesper she passed them around the room. Then Q started handing out his prototype fans and even pulled out a model of a boat with a screw type disc near the stern to act as propulsion similar to Q's da Vinci design based on the flying machine.  
  
“Gentlemen, I am Quinn Boothroyd, I stand here on my own for the first time. I have experience gained from designing S.S. Nemesis and H.M.S. Vulcan. I am here to propose  the commission of a prototype ship incorporating a refinement from the S.S. Archimedes,” Q said and indicated the model of the ship.  
  
Q explained the differences from the model he had brought and his refinement. The attendees looking at his fans as they were passed around. None of those who spoke accepted his proposal. “I can attest to Q, Qui, Mr Boothroyd's expertise,” Hornblower said tripping over the name, wanting to be professional but accustomed to the nickname he usually used.  
  
“As her Captain on her maiden voyage Nemesis was a masterpiece,” James said from where he sat at the side of the room.  
  
Q pulled out an initial blueprint for his ship handing it over to Roebuck. The three admirals ruled the room. No matter what anyone else said it would be Roebuck that made the choice.  
  
“Will it be more efficient than the paddle-wheels?” Messervy the oldest of the three admirals demanded.  
  
“Yes, hands down,” Q said with absolute certainty.  
  
“I don't believe it. You won't be able to steer it and he has not tested it in the sea. It will be a disaster,” a small man with epaulettes displaying the rank of Commodore dismissed.  
  
“Well we will need to have a trial,” Roebuck said and agreed to commission the ship.  
  
\--  
  
A rather nice house became their temporary home. Archie was at the door ready for their arrival. It was a two story Georgian with large paned windows and a simple rectangle shape enhanced by a white facade. Set on a rise a distance from the Royal Naval dock it looked down on the harbour, town and was surrounded with trees.  
  
Hornblower accepted their presence with grace and enjoyment. It was far more practical, they spent the week in Plymouth and returned to London at the weekend. Vesper had instilled herself as Q's secretary. She could handle everyone from the brash workers to the gentlemen officers taking little offence at the worst comments but taking no nonsense and putting most in their place.  
  
Over breakfast they sat around the table in the dining room. Unlike James, Hornblower had a staff and they knew enough to turn a blind eye to all they saw.  
  
The butler arrived and placed a few papers down. Although different they all had the same headline. “Oh dear god, Alec is going to be insufferable,” Hornblower complained.  
  
Q smiled, Alec's ship having set a record for crossing the Atlantic. “Good for him.” Q said.  
  
“You are not to stroke his ego,” Hornblower admonished.  
  
Alec arrived far quicker than Q thought, it was the same day. Q was in his office while Vesper sat at the desk to the side going over his correspondence. Q leant over the sloped table, refining his design, the window to his back providing natural light.  
  
At the instance of the admiralty there were to be weapons placements so Q added them. The door banged open and in sauntered Alec with Ben in his wake. “All that drama to stop me calling you Little Lord,” Alec teased.  
  
Q couldn't be offended by the remark. Alec came up to him and looked over the plans, leaning an elbow on his shoulder. “You forgot something on the old rattler, Quartermaster,” Alec said nudging Q and indicating the sleek ship and missing paddle-wheels.  
  
“Progress, Alec. Progress,” Q said with weary resignation.  
  
\--  
  
James was being a little mysterious so Q was in light coloured clothing at James request. Pale long trousers, jacket, green cravat and a tight weave straw boater hat with a green ribbon around it.  
  
Villiers handed them a hamper on the way out. The city had vanished and they stepped off the train in a village. There James guided him to a boat house and hired a narrow boat in polished wood.  
  
Taking the punt James stood at the end and Q lay back, enjoying the views of fields and trees that lazily passed them by. They travelled until it was like they were alone. Finding a spot, the picnic was unpacked and they spent the day lazing in the warm sun with just the sounds of the countryside about them.  
  
Q lay with his head resting on James' stomach their hands with fingers entwined. “Thank you for coming for me,” Q mused, looking at the blue sky with big fluffy clouds moving slowly across.  
  
“For you I would go to the ends of the Earth,” James said and gave the hand he was holding a bit of a squeeze. “I love you.”  
  
Q looked to the man that had captivated him then came for him when he felt he was all alone. “I love you too.”  
  
\--  
  
Q had hoped his father might come but he wasn't here. There was no Royal christening, the Admiralty wanting to brush the cost of the ship under the carpet if it was a failure.  
  
There was a small crowd. James, Vesper, Alec, Hornblower, Archie and a friend of Vesper's, Theo were amongst the crowd at the side of the dry dock.  
  
Q was on the deck of the ship very similar to Vulcan, just a little smaller. It had three masts to help drive the ship and for use when coal was not available to power the engine. Only the smoke stack indicated it was more than a normal sail power ship.  
  
On the dock at the bow the Mayor's wife was called on to launch the ship. The Mayor stood in his heavy golden coloured chain with the town crest, long robes and three pointed hat. Admiral Hargreaves, the champion of the project represented the Admiralty.  
  
Q had a firm grip of a rail. The Mayor gave a long winded speech. Q just wanted him to hurry up. Eventually the man could not stall any longer handing the ceremony over to his wife she announced, “I name this ship Rattler. May God bless her and all who sail in her.”  
  
Q's stomach clenched as the ship started sliding back. There were hoots from the builders and foremen who built the ship. All there on deck to show how much faith they had in their work. A jarring lurch and the ship hit the water. Q slowly let go of the rail as the water took the weight and the ship bobbed evenly.  
  
The burly foreman clapped his back and gave a broad grin, “Good work son.”  
  
Q smiled up at him, even though Q was his boss they all called him son. Only the ones younger than him had taken to Alec's nickname and called him Quartermaster. They all respected him, especially in the first firing of the boiler and engine test. Those assembled dignitaries were getting impatient with the slow process and Q ordered Captains and Commodores and even a visiting Vice Admiral out. He would not rush just because they wanted to see something interesting.  
  
Slowly the mooring ropes were pulled and the ship was brought alongside the dock. James stood beside a man with a large box, a black curtain at the back and a round brass covered lens at the front.  
  
With the profile of the ship behind Q stood in the middle with the foremen either side of him. Q felt dwarfed by the large men. The workers were sitting in a line in front. James brought over a small blackboard. 'H.M.S. Rattler 1843' written on it in thick white chalk lines. The worker directly in front of Q held the makeshift plaque.  
  
“Hold position,” the photographer shouted removing the lens cap he pulled out a watch and started counting the exposure. Just as Q thought he couldn't hold the pose much longer the photographer covered the lens. “Done.”  
  
“Was this your doing,” Q jibed at James once the group broke up. The photograph was a complete surprise. There was a shake of the head and James nodded to Alec.  
  
There was a brilliant smile on the man's face when Q looked to him. “You are just a sentimental softy,” Q teased.  
  
“Yes he is,” Ben said.  
  
“Come on, my surprise.” James led them back to Hornblower's house where a small party had been arranged with champagne in abundance. Hargreaves attended with several others.  
  
The Admiral cornered Q. “We need to demonstrate this ship is as good or better than anything equivalent,” the Admiral said. Q agreed, his future would depend on Hargreaves replacing Roebuck. A formidable, impressive and innovative Navy was what Hargreaves was banking on to become First Sea Lord.  
  
“We will have to see how the sea trials go. I will come up with something,” Q said.  
  
\--  
  
Back at James' around the kitchen table Villiers dropped the morning papers in a pile and Alec burst out laughing. On the front page was the ship he had seen across the Atlantic in the fastest crossing so far, beached off Ireland.  
  
“That's what the old bastard gets for not keeping me as Captain,” Alec said descending into more laughter.  
  
Returning to Plymouth after the weekend Hornblower was getting ready. Reluctantly Q had to get ready with him.  
  
HMS Vulcan still undergoing the official sea trials, was called into service. Hornblower looked dashing in his Naval uniform as he took command of the ship. Q joined him to lend his technical expertise.  
  
Q was a little put off, Hornblower changed the moment he set foot on deck. No longer the controlled and sensitive man he had come to know. He bellowed in command on deck and spoke abruptly on the bridge as they moved out of the harbour.    
  
Q toured the decks for a while before going to the officer's mess, the only place he could work on the plans he had been given. The SS Great Western was beached and HMS Vulcan was the only ship able to pull the stricken ship off the bank.  
  
Q was working out the best points to connect the two ships. A rocking went through the ship and Q's stomach lurched. Standing wondering if he was going to be sick or not, for all the ships he had built this was the first time he was in the constant rocking and swaying. The officers started filing on. Laughter went up at Q's distress and a few comments.  
  
“SILENCE!” a voice bellowed. The sound of the Captain stilled all further comments. Then Q felt arms guiding him to the fading light of day and the horizon bobbing up and down.  
  
The sea air, the chug of the engine, splashing of the sea churning paddle-wheels hit his senses as his eyes confirmed he was moving and it wasn't just his imagination. Q started feeling better, he was clinging to the side with Hornblower keeping his head over the rail in case he was sick.  
  
“We will have to get your sea legs sorted,” Hornblower said and he was not the captain in that moment. He was the friend Q had come to like.  
  
“A bit unnerving seeing the difference between Captain Hornblower and old Horatio,” Q said. The point that had been keeping him a wary distance from the man.  
  
Hornblower chuckled. “It's the way things are. Do you think you are any different? I saw what you did with those bigwigs who tried to dictate terms in your domain. You sent them packing like wet behind the ear cadets without a hint of sympathy or remorse and you were right to do so.”  
  
Q hadn’t thought about that. He didn't really remember the new engine had been his concern at the time, if not done correctly it could have expanded unevenly and exploded. An unsealed seam that was not kept flush could have released pressurised steam. The VIPs were not his concern.  
  
“Just remember you know this ship better than anyone else aboard and that is why you are here. We will help Brunel but I, you and the Navy will not sacrifice this ship to do it.”  
  
Q nodded. He looked to the door leading to the below decks. His stomach sank at the prospect of going back inside so Hornblower tugged on his arm and the two walked around the deck. Apart from the metal hull, smoke stack and paddle-wheels at the side there was little difference between the shape of this ship and a sailing ship. The deck was open with rigging for the three masts with the raised section of the bridge between the paddle-wheels.  
  
As the sky darkened and the stars shone Hornblower started indicating how they used them for navigation. Reluctantly Q let himself be escorted below deck finding his hammock Q climbed in, desperately trying to push down on the growing sea sickness.  
  
The moment dawn started to approach Q was up and out, the rising sun helping him. He’d managed not to be sick but it was a close thing at times. With immense relief, in the distance he could see Ireland where the ship had beached itself.  
  
Soon they arrived and Q, Hornblower and Alec (reinstated Captain) along with the chief engineers of both Vulcan and Great Western they came up with a plan.  
  
Soon heavy ropes connected the ships and they were waiting for the highest point of the tide. The Vulcan's funnel belched black smoke. The Great Western doing the same. A plumb line was thrown over the back of the much larger ship and there was a semaphore flag signal. “Now Captain,” Q called.  
  
First Vulcan took the strain on the tow ropes. Then Hornblower bellowed, “Full steam ahead.”  
  
The tension mounted on the ropes until they were like solid rods, creaking and stretching. The two ships back to back, the Great western in full reverse. Slowly the ships worked together with a few tugs helping. Eventually the much bigger Great Western started moving.  
  
“Good work Quartermaster,” Hornblower bellowed. The Great Western no longer firm as it bobbed with the sway of the water.  
  
The ships were separated and the Great Western headed for Bristol while Vulcan headed back to Plymouth.  
  
Q truly wanted to run up to James when he saw him on the dock. Although the moment his foot landed on solid ground he got his wish, sort of. James had to hold him up. It still felt like he was moving, while the world was still. With James helping him walk they headed to the administration buildings, Q suddenly very hungry.  
  
“I have an idea how I can demonstrate how the screw driven ship is better than a paddle-wheel,” Q said. He was wolfing down tea, toast and whatever could be fried, moving on to his second helping of bacon, sausage and egg.  
  
Hornblower and Archie joining them as Q recovered.  
  
\--  
  
Severine looked at the paper. It was the second time Quinn had been mentioned. The first was his part in masterminding the re-floating of that ship. Now he was demonstrating how good his own ship was compared to the standard ones. This time it was a tug of war in front of massive crowds. His HMS Rattler pulling the larger vessel backwards and proving his 'screw propeller' was the way forward in shipping.  
  
Picking up the paper Severine came out of the house heading for the shed. It was a quiet place now. Her husband not getting the orders he once did. People had started handing in their notice hoping to find work elsewhere. The village was suffering as all the shops set up to support the shed were the first hit.  
  
Entering the lab, there was no sign of Geoffrey in the glass conservatory so she moved on to the work room. An anxious voice was begging, “Let me your Lordship.”  
  
Rounding the corner Severine's heart froze. “What are you doing in there?” Severine demanded.  
  
Geoffrey was in the water up to his waist at the bow of that launch the buyer having cancelled the order in no uncertain terms. Geoffrey had been fuming when he received the letter but refused to discuss it further.  
  
Geoffrey looked to her and she saw the paint brush in his cold trembling grip. Then she saw he had named the launch anyway. He really was a stubborn old fool. “Hurry up and get out of the freezing water.”  
  
He still used a walking stick as he moved through the water. Severine even waded down the slope and felt the water chill her feet. Taking her husband's arm she took the oil stained blanket and wrapped it around her husband's waist to stop the wind ripping through the wet cloth of his breeches.  
  
Guiding him to the house, “You are a fool, just apologise. He will forgive you. I doubt you even have to apologise just show Quinn he is welcome to come home,” Severine said.  
  
“He can come home but not Mr Bond,” Geoffrey grumbled.  
  
Severine was still stumped by how someone could love their son so completely while still being unwilling to accept something they don't understand about them. She helped her husband strip and get into a bath to warm him up. “Quinn was in the paper again. Using a screw propeller he used a smaller ship with a smaller engine to pull a larger ship backwards in a tug of war.”  
  
“Was the cad there?” Geoffrey grumbled.  
  
“Yes, Commander Bond was there. He is always there, will always be there to support Quinn. I know Commander Bond's type, they are always loving and devoted,” Severine said.  
  
“Then he should make a _woman_ a good husband,” Geoffrey said.  
  
“Would you risk never seeing your son again rather than accept he loves a good man?” Severine asked.  
  
Geoffrey refused to speak past that. After the bath she wrapped her husband into bed and watched as he fell asleep. “Just give in, I know you want to,” Severine said. Her husband's eyes fluttered open for a moment before closing.


	8. Returning Home

From the growing success of the prototype screw propeller driving ship Q had settled further into his new life with James. The man seemed to do nothing but follow him about. He’d taken retirement and seemed content to be Q’s constant shadow. With Vesper as well, they would woo and court the clients Q felt uncomfortable to be around.

Today however, Q was in the dining room of what he now considered their home. Alec, Ben, Vesper, James and himself all living together. Ben too had become more than a friend. When Alec was not away with Ben acting as his personal steward Ben would lend a hand in whatever way he could.

With James and Alec swapping stories with Admiral Hargreaves, Vesper and Ben talking with Colonel Mallory, Q was able to gather his thoughts. He didn't like what he was doing but had resigned himself to helping Queen and Country for his own personal benefit.

“The latest concept for my new rifle,” Q said bringing the meeting to order.

“Well I for one will be glad to see the back of those bloody Muskets,” Mallory drawled then nodded to Vesper, “Excuse my language.”

Vesper sent the man a teasing smile. “Living with my brother and three sailors, colourful language is something I have grown accustomed to.”

With support from both the Navy and the Army Q was given the go ahead to commence his tests and produced a prototype.

\--

“I have something,” James purred full of smug glee coming down the kitchen stairs to where everyone was having breakfast.

Looking up Q smiled at the arrival of his lover but little seemed different about him dressed in the variation of his usual long trousers and short waist coat without the jacket, until he went outside.

From under James' arm he pulled out the morning paper he was carrying dropping it in front of him. Picking it up Q skimmed the headlines of the front page.

“Bottom left,” James announced.

Seeing the small tightly packed article Q started reading. “Her Majesty's Ship Rattler under the direction of Commander Horatio Hornblower did engage, board and seize the Brazilian sailing ship Alepide and did find aboard a cargo of Slaves bound for the Americas. Commander Hornblower praised his crew and the ship that allowed them to overcome an unfavourable wind and current in order to catch up to the suspicious ship.”

Q looked up to James, there was a soft smile on his face. He knew of the conflicts Q had had and shown him the Navy was not just about dominion it was about responsibility to their fellow man. “Thank you, James.”

\--

“My Boy,” Hargreaves blasted and barged through the front door the moment Villiers opened it, dressed in his full uniform.

“Excellent work. We, with a fleet of these ships. Bigger more powerful, Everything!” Hargreaves announced, before even the pleasantries could be given. Waxing on about ships, rule Britannia and empire.

Hargreaves was getting ahead of himself. He was not First Sea Lord yet, Roebuck still held that rank. But the man had a vision and was still going on when Colonel Mallory arrived.

With Hargreaves taking Q’s arm Mallory and James followed behind as they entered the waiting carriage.

When they arrived at the Army range the prototype rifles were there along with a few competing models.

Hargreaves went to lord the public success of HMS Rattler over a rival admiral. Mallory and James were beside him as Q inspected the other guns to fully replace the Muskets.

Q was looking over a model brought from America. It was a good design but he knew this was as much about politics as it was about the design. They couldn’t go into battle with a weapon made by another nation.

Mallory's voice brought Q's attention to him. “It was a good thing, the Ship I mean. There is a lot of bad and a lot of good in the world. We never know what until all things play out. Until then I will stand with my men and champion for the best so they can have the hope of living.”

Q looked at the man, really looked. He was very much like James. His eyes conveyed a pain he masked most of the time. Then Q saw on the uniform, the red tailed jacket that made him and all soldiers look so resplendent, a tiny pink rectangle of pink near the heart. The indication of a new and highest award.

This was not some gentleman General or Admiral living out some glory. Mallory was concerned for the common soldier. The Victoria Cross showed he had lived through something that should have killed him and most likely few around him would have survived.

Q wanted to boast about his own rifle but with the look Mallory was giving him, he nodded to the end of the long table, “The Enfield would be my recommendation.”

“Thank you Mr Boothroyd,” Mallory said with a genuine smile skipping the other competing designs including Q's. Mallory picked up the one Q had indicated.

“Please call me Q, or as the Navy call me, Quartermaster,” Q said to the man and got an offer to use Gareth.

As they watched the marksmanship Mallory looked to Q. The Enfield was not the worst but it wasn't the best. Knowing the VIPs liked a show when they couldn't understand the new technology, “Can you arrange, a bucket of water, a bucket of sand or soot, a vice and a piece of string?” Q said to the man.

Quickly the arrangements were made. When Mallory returned with a few men and the requested items Q and James stepped forward. James explained Q’s plan to Mallory.

Standing in front of the spectator pavilion Q looked to Admiral Hargreaves. “I have recommended to Colonel Mallory as my Army contact that the Patton Enfield should be the victor and I would like to show you why. Imagine yourself at sea and you need to fire your weapon,” Q said and indicated the gun James was holding and aiming.

Mallory approached and splashed some water on the gun. When James pulled the trigger nothing happened.

“What's the point of this? The muskets were just as susceptible to water preventing them from firing and we coped,” a man in a Naval uniform called out.

“With the sealed bullet design the Enfield doesn’t need a flint or fuse, just a hammer,” Q called back. They watched Mallory douse the hammer section of the Enfield and James fired it successfully.

Q took the group through the flaws in every rifle including his own. He made sure his own reputation was no too badly damaged by having his rifle follow one he suspected would be flat out dangerous.

With a little soot and telling the spectators to consider it dust or the like, similar to when in the scorching African continent or other dry area with lots of airborne dust James and Mallory positioned the rifle as far down the range as possible.

Using the string to pull the trigger James and Mallory slowly backed off, making sure the string stayed loose until they were well out of range. “Assume a surprise attack. The diligent soldier prepared and inspected his weapon but during his rounds a small amount of dust or debris blocked the breech chamber from closing properly, even by a hair's width. This is what happens.”

James pulled the string. There was a crack of the gun shot, the barrel broke off and the stock was a mass of splinters.

“Even my own design has flaws.”

They watched as the exact same test was set up as before. Q just hoped his rifle didn't explode as well. He’d taken into account the dangers of breach loading and if you were careful it was safe. But the Enfield was the better all round weapon. With relief there was a nasty bang but thankfully most of the force was channelled down the barrel rather than into the rifleman's face.

“I humbly submit the Enfield for consideration,” Q called and moved to take up his seat.

\--

“Should we be doing this?” Q whispered. Mallory was throwing a dinner party with James and Q having been sent a joint invitation.

“Live a little,” James whispered back nudging Q's shoulder with his own.

The door opened for them and they entered, the footman showing them to a drawing room where the butler announced them.

Mallory came up to greet them. Q moved to a man that he’d seen quite often in Mallory's company. The conversation was brief and Q moved on before it fell into the uncomfortable silence as most of his conversations did.

“Miss Silva and Matthew,” a butler announced.

Q looked up, Vesper's French man having been dropped in favour of a new American. He walked up, Mallory greeting the pair as was required of his duties as host. When the Colonel moved on Vesper caught Q's arm, so she was between her brother and the new man. “Brother this is Matthew, he doesn’t like how we use last names. Matthew, my brother Quinn.”

“Nice to meet you,” the light voice with an accent that Vesper told him was New York greeted.

“A pleasure Mr... Matthew,” Q returned, reaching across his sister to shake the man's hand.

A heavy hand landed on Q's shoulder and he was met with Alec's grinning face, in a stage whisper, “It's the brother's duty to threaten the new love interest, to make sure he acts honourably.”

Alec then also extended his hand to Matthew, give a teasing smile, “Don't worry, Q is harmless,” then his voice dropped down and the young man gulped as Alec continued, “that's why Q has us.”

“Behave Commander Trevelyan I am sure Matthew is a perfect gentleman,” Q said

“You're too soft,” Alec said to Q then flicked his eyes to Matthew making him flinch, “I'm sure he will be a perfect gentleman too.”

Vesper led her traumatised guest away. Q gave Alec a smile and a shake of the head, grateful he could be the intimidating person Q couldn't. Alec then nodded and Q looked to where he indicated, the poor man was now speaking to James and was clinging to Vesper for dear life. “If he survives tonight he might be good for her,” Q mused.

In the large drawing room the guests continued to mingle. In a corner something caught Q's eye, a small high and round table usually used for plants. Closing in there was a framed photo and a freshly cut red rose lying in front of a small dark framed picture. The portrait was Mallory in his uniform holding a woman. The woman dressed in white, a veil pulled back showing the oriental face of the Far East. Their hands were entwined with a gold band around the woman's left ring finger.

“My wife, not a long marriage but a happy one for us. The Army and my family on the other hand...”

Q jumped at the sudden voice beside him. Colonel Mallory was beside him looking at the photograph. “I'm sorry.”

“I miss her but life cannot stand still,” Mallory said.

The butler called everyone to the table allowing Q to escape the emotionally intense conversation.

Returning home and climbing into bed Q rested his head on James' chest, as he usually did, hearing the regular rumble of the deep breath and the thumping of the heart. “I suppose my paranoia was a little misplaced.”

Q felt the vibration in James' chest as he responded, “Always be careful love, we will only know we have made a mistake when it's too late.”

\--

Villiers entered the drawing room with a small envelope in hand. “Telegram,” he said handing it to Q.

Q ripped open the small envelope and read the message, his heart went cold. “I have to go, call for a cab,” Q said dropping the piece of paper and rushing to his room, pulling out bag and stuffing a few things inside.

He was joined by James doing the same, “I'm coming with.”

They met Vesper coming out of her room. Alec and Ben stood in the foyer with Villiers. Q rushed out, not hearing their parting words. James and Vesper joined him in the carriage.

“I didn't arrange for someone to meet us,” Q said to his two companions once they were settled on the train.

“Alec is sending word ahead and will be joining us tomorrow,” James said softly. Q nodded, the dire words of his stepmother's telegram finally sinking in. James moved to his side and pulled him close.

Arriving in Ipswich his father's carriage was waiting for them. Q took comfort from the reserved but slightly cheerful greeting of the driver. “How is my father?” Q demanded as they loaded their bags.

“Bad, Master Quinn. He took a chill and has been getting worse,” The old man said.

The carriage moved with haste out of Ipswich, then Cranford, finally arriving in Wall. Turning into the drive the pale house was a welcome sight. At the door waiting for them was Severine, her clothing looked rumpled and perhaps a few days worn, her eyes shining and a little puffy. There were no pleasantries, “Quinn, come boy,” she called sharply and quickly moved inside.

Following her inside his mother pushed open the door of his father's room and for a moment Q though it was too late. Then a slow rattling inward breath came from the man in the bed. 'Man' Q thought, it truly didn't look like his father, he was gaunt and ashen white, he seemed sunken like all that was left inside him was the skeleton.

The breath rattled out and Q wanted to run away, to deny what he was seeing. His hand was grasped and James was beside him, giving what strength he could. Q sat on the bed and touched the claw like hand that was resting on the sheets, the flesh so hot. There was such a long break between the out breath and the in that Q thought his father had slipped away, then his chest expanded and there was a wet laboured breath. “Father?” Q called but received no response.

This pause between breaths was longer, the next pause was even longer again. Q felt a hand on his cheek and the tears wiped away. He looked to the man he loved who was standing beside him. Severine was the other side of the bed wiping the sweat from his father's brow.

'1,2,3,4,5...47' Q counted the pause between breaths.

'1,2,3,4,5...59' Q knew three minutes was the key number and that one little fact was bubbling away.

'1,2,3,4,5...195,196,197', Q took a shuddering gasp and more tears fell.

James reached forward touching the side of Geoffrey Boothroyd's neck and shook his head. What happened next occurred in a blur. The Doctor came upstairs and confirmed death. Vesper laid out a good suit as James grasped Q's hand and led him out. Finding Q's room James stripped the grieving man, there was no sobbing but tears fell freely. Lying down, James held his love close and stroked down his back.

\--

The coffin was prepared and laid out when Alec led Ben, Hornblower and Archie in. Q had been sitting quietly looking at the pine box taking up a large amount of the drawing room's space. Plenty of flowers, ornate bouquets, simple vases of cut flowers from the garden and wreaths were there to cover scent of death. As the eldest son and heir he should be the one to deal with things but all he could do was sit and stare at the box. Severine was in black along with Vesper, Q wore whatever James had dressed him in that morning.

“Please don't give your condolences,” Q begged when Hornblower was about to speak. Alec rested a firm hand on his shoulder and that was better than any words the man could say. He knew they were here for him and that was enough, he just didn't want to hear those words that are said when there are no other words to say.

“I am here to see Quinn.”

Q cringed and tears sprang anew at the voice of the Vicar's daughter. Hornblower fled the room with Archie following. There was a squawk of an indignant exclamation as Matilda's voice slowly faded.

When Roebuck arrived Q was able to pull himself together for a few moments, hearing the words he didn't want to hear giving his thanks and all the other expected words. Hargreaves arrived, he gave the expected words to his mother but when he stood in front of Q, he just gave a sympathetic, “My boy.”

Messervy, Geoffrey Boothroyd's oldest friend was ashen faced when he arrived, reminded of his own mortality, his peer group getting smaller. Q wondered would he be like that, coming to the end would it be just him and Ben as the youngest.

Colonel Mallory arrived along with generals and others from the Army his father was a part of.

Q didn't care how it looked, James was beside him on the front pew. He didn't notice Matilda was firmly positioned between Hornblower and Archie throughout the following service, burial and reception after. Eve was a few pews back and had been keeping out of his sight.

When the time came Q took a cord to lower the coffin, along with James, Roebuck, Mallory, Alec, Hargreaves and Messervy.

After the burial Q was still raw with grief but was able to interact a bit beyond the living doll he was. That was until Matilda broke away from her guards and Q was latched on to. Verging on hysterical, Q felt trapped and was about to panic.

He didn't know how the situation resolved itself, however Q found himself in the library. James handed him a whisky and sat beside him. Alec was there setting a fire in the hearth. Hornblower and Archie nursed their own drinks. Ben waited for Alec to finish and take up the chair beside him.

Q clasped the strong hand of the man beside him, feeling the warm rough skin. It helped ground him to the moment. The day fell to night and the room darkened, the shadows cast by the fire dancing on the walls. The latch of the door made everyone jump, silence having reigned for such a long time.

“Just me,” Vesper said coming into the room. She placed a large plate of sandwiches down and took a seat.

\--

Q woke in James' arms, his old room around them. Slipping out, “Q?” James called when disturbed.

“I'm just going for a walk.”

Q dressed quickly and exited his room, there were things that needed to be taken care of. Alec and Ben were still here, Hornblower and Archie having returned to duty a few days before.

Walking out, a chill in the air Q stopped, the shed should be coming to life, workers arriving, chimneys smoking and the sounds of metal and tools. It was so quiet.

Following the path to the still shut up shed he entered the lab at the side, the door already unlocked, a light sheen of dust covered the models and tables.

Q moved through to the workshop. The paddle launch just where it had been left after the first trial. Severine was standing on the mooring wall looking down on the boat. “Hello,” Q called softly, she turned red rimmed eyes to him and a tear trailed down her cheek.

Now was the time for his mother to mourn as the need to arrange and see to others was over. “Thank you for dealing with everything,” Q said coming up to her.

“James and Mr Trevelyan were a great help,” came the soft response.

Q continued to look at the boat, “Why wasn't it given over to the person who commissioned it?”

“Fully paid, the order was cancelled with no desire for the boat or a refund.”

“Madeleine?” Q said reading the name that had been painted on the bow.

“Apparently it's the name of the owner's wife. Strange, your father only named the boat after the order had been cancelled. The fool, chest deep in the water for hours, that's where he got the chill,” Severine answered, sniffing and swiping away a tear.

In that moment Q was reminded of something. “I don't know if father truly disowned me or not but you will have a home for as long as I can provide one, mother.”

Severine hugged him close and lay her head on his shoulder. “You're a good boy, just like your father but perhaps not quite so pig headed. He did love and miss you, he just couldn't understand two men together.”

Q nodded feeling the loss, he’d hoped there would be a reconciliation but that was over now. All he was left with were the ‘what ifs’.

Severine said softly, “I don't want to add to the grief by adding pressure but I think a walk through the village is needed.”

Nodding Q pulled away from his mother walking round the house and out of the drive. Heading along the road he first passed the still closed church, the Vicar never one to be up early. Then Q noticed the sounds, or more precisely the lack of noise.

Quickening his pace to the glass works, a red brick building with a strange shaped chimney, fat at the bottom and tapering up. The doors were closed and barred. The leather workers wasn't barred but it wasn't open. Moving on, finally a metallic clanging rang through the village. He followed the winding dirt road out of the village.

The bear of a blacksmith, thick arms and wiry black hair and small eyes was hammering. A horse tied up at the entrance to his shop waiting as he worked a bent piece of metal, quickly becoming a horse shoe.

“Morning,” Q called.

The gruff man looked up, grunted and returned to his work. “Need a hand?” Q asked watching the man try to operate the bellows and work the metal. Q took over the bellows, pumping air into the fire to make it hotter.

With a hiss the blacksmith pulled the fully formed shoe from a bucket of water then taking the hoof, nailed it in place. “So you're back,” the blacksmith growled out, wiping his brow.

“What happened?”

“Hasn't been work for weeks, months. People are packing up, others hoping you will come back and start the shed up again.”

Q walked back down the path. His father had blacksmiths in the shed but there were plenty of small things ordered from the village blacksmith. Further along his route through the village a carpenter, his two sons and grandsons were moving towards him. Three generations employed in his father's shed and the sons and grandsons apprenticed there, learning their trade.

“Master...Sir... Well your Lordship now,” the oldest said, Q had learnt alongside the youngest son and oldest grandson, the man had clipped his ear for measuring once and cutting twice instead of measuring twice and cutting once. Then clipped his grandson's ear for measuring once, cutting one and ruining the piece of wood he was working on.

It was strange to see the man ringing his cap, nervously. “Your Lordship, the thing is, we know the time is difficult...”

“You want to know if I will reopen the shed?” Q said and there was eager nodding from all four. “My father and I parted on bad terms. I will have to see his will before I know the state of things.”

“It's just, your Lordship. Our savings are.. we are wondering if we should send the younger ones to the city to find work?”

Q wondered if this was what his mother had sent him to find, an entire community having its heart ripped out by the closure of a single industry. “I will telegram father's lawyer immediately and will address anyone who wants to hear mid-day after next. The lawyer should be here by then. Send word around, be at the shed the day after next, mid-day”

“Very good your Lordship”

“The navy call me Quartermaster and I prefer it,” Q said to the man and got a nod.

Heading home, Q was in the middle of saddling a horse when James came out of the house. “You skipped breakfast,” James said.

“I got distracted,” Q replied, glancing from the man beside him to the fields around them.

“James, if I were to stay I'm not sure about us. There will be a lot of people about, servants, workers and the like, ones who know me and will think it strange that you are here.”

“I am not leaving you,” James said and Q felt a clench of fear and love. He would be afraid every day with James here but couldn't leave him or leave the shed.

James saddled a horse along side Q and joined him on the journey. Eventually they arrived in Ipswich. Going to the post office Q wrote out his Telegram and paid the fee.

On the way back Q finally broke the oppressive silence between them. “I don't know how we can be together if I stay. I'm not sure I can leave and all I know is I don't want to be separated from you.”

“Don't worry,” James said softly.

\--

The day after Q summoned the lawyer they sat in the library. Eve in the corner desperately trying to avoid notice. Severine and Vesper on one side of the table, with Q and James the other. At the head was the Lawyer of Geoffrey Boothroyd.

The man was droning on, Severine was to have the use of the house for the rest of her life or until she married again. There was a small lump sum and an annual bursary from a trust for her. The title and everything else went to Q.

Sitting on his bed, James finished undressing and climbed in, naked. Q hand returned to wearing pyjamas, with each passing day fear was creeping in to his heart. The house felt like it had eyes, every time James touched him now Q felt them prickling the back of his neck. Even now when alone and James reached for his hand Q pulled away and he so wanted to go sleep in a guest room rather than share the bed with his forbidden love.

Q sensed James' anger that he was suppressing. Q stood, ignoring James' surprise running out. On the stairs he ran into his sister, Eve landed on the floor sending her bag flying and spilling open. She froze looking up at him.

Hearing James Q moved on, down the stairs and out. Looking round the old panic bubbling up, his home not feeling a safe place. With the absence of nothing better the shed became Q's goal. The door to the lab was locked so Q broke a pane and climbed through the window.

In to the cavernous space, the gentle ripple of water and Q looked to the tied up launch. He sat on the stone floor of the shed, wrapping his arms around his head.

“Q,” James bellowed coming in then more softly seeing the man huddled in a ball said, “Oh Q.”

James sat down and wrapped his arms around the smaller man and pulled him close. The two rocked gently on the floor. “Why don't you work here and come down to London at the weekends,” James whispered. Relief flooded Q, James was willing to compromise. Crushing down on the lingering fear, Q lifted his head and brought it to the other man's shoulder and laid a kiss on the soft skin of James' neck.

James was standing and he pulled Q with him scrubbing his eyes. A gasp from James and Q felt the man tense, breaking contact James moved ahead, just able to make out the name on the launch.

“James?” Q called, concerned by the sudden change on the man. Looking between James and the launch, “Did you commission the launch?”

James nodded, his eyes still fixed on the name that could be barely seen. “Who is Madeline?”

“My Wife”

“Wife?” Q asked softly, James never wore a ring, there had been no mention of a wife and there had been nothing of her in the London house.

James finally shook off the thought and fixed Q with his gaze. “I wanted a family, children, for that I needed a wife. I mourned the child that never took breath, far more than the woman who followed him into death. Relief was not something a person should feel when someone dies, and that was what I felt when I knew I was no longer tied to her. From then on I decided to be careful but to never hide who and what I am.”

Q closed in, placing his hands on James' waist and resting his head on a broad shoulder. He then took a shuffling step to the side, remembering the beat of the music from the first time they danced. “Careful but no hiding,” Q muttered as James started to follow his lead and moving to the unheard beat.

“Q, James,” Severine called.

They stopped dancing and turned to the source of the voice. Seeing Eve, James tried to separate but Q just wound his arms around his waist and clamped them there. James tightened his grip, giving the man a squeeze.

“I'm sorry,” Eve muttered. She was cowering under the twin glares of her mother and sister.

Now free of his own fear Q felt a little exhausted and comfortable in James' arms. He didn't have the energy for anger or hate towards the woman, they took so much energy to maintain. “You don't have to run away, this is your home for as long as you need it.”

Eve's downcast eyes snapped to him. Severine gave her daughter a knowing and superior smile and Vesper spat, “See, I told you he isn't like the other men.”

Q, looking from the night dresses under large shawls of his mother and sister to the travelling clothes of Eve. Alec and Ben hanging back dressed like James, in under shirts and trousers. “It's cold and we are all dressed in nightwear. Let’s talk in the morning.”

\--

Sitting round the breakfast table Eve was still withdrawn and subdued. Vesper, Alec and Ben were in a quiet conversation. In the harsh light of day and with the butler ready and waiting along with a footman the fear had returned to Q. James kept his interaction careful and appropriate as did Alec and Ben with each other.

“Leave us,” Severine commanded looking to the butler. The servant snagged the sleeve of the footman on the way out guiding him out as well.

“Have you decided what you are going to do?” Severine asked her stepson.

Nodding, “There are too many people who need the shed, the village will die without it. I will need some commissions soon unless we sell off land and assets. Death duties will take most of father's savings,” Q mused.

Severine advised, “Have you considered making staff changes to the house so you feel more comfortable here and at the shed, the more people you are comfortable with the safer you will feel.”

James quietly saying, “Villiers is a trained and experienced Under Butler, fired when he was found in bed with the son of his employer.”

Alec spoke up with a cheeky smile and a challenging glance to James, “I would like to commission a launch with a screw propeller and artillery, just a toy, something for James and I to play at battles with.”

Q smiled and nodded thinking Alec was teasing until he saw the serious expression on James' face. When he spoke James was every bit the Commander and Naval captain full of authority. “That is not a half bad idea. We are moving from sail to steam, there are a lot of old Captains stuck in their ways. They would appreciate a place out of view, where they could train away from subordinates that currently know more than they do.”

“I am your assistant and I intend to continue,” Vesper said, not giving Q a choice in the matter. Ben adding, “I'd like to help too.”

It was a start and a launch would help get them working.

\--

Standing in his mother's private sitting room with a view of the shed, more and more people were traipsing across the lawns, tracks and paths leading up to the shed. “It's the whole bloody county,” Q muttered. There were the workers, villagers and Q's eyes landed on a man, “He's the station master in Ipswich!”

James chuckled and pulled him from the window. A tapping came from the door, the butler announced, “Admiral Hargreaves and Colonel Mallory.”

Q stood straighter, the Admiral came in with a broad smile on his face, “Trevelyan cabled me. I hear you are taking up your father's work, is it true?”

Q nodded, “Yes, I'm reopening with a commission from Lt. Commander Trevelyan to start with.”

“GOOD! Good, good, my boy. I have plans.”

Severine walked out with Eve in tow. Alec and Ben arrived.

Hargreaves waxed on, “Secret, that's the word, Mallory and I, the only ones knowing. This will not be a committee thing, you will keep us at the forefront of innovation. Rule Britannia and all that. Commander Bond, Lt. Commander Trevelyan and the Quartermaster. Yes this will work well.”

Hargreaves suddenly stopped, looking round the oriental inspired and feminine room. The black furniture and the embroideries of farmers in rice paddies, long wingless dragons and strange looking lion dog things. "Isn't there somewhere more appropriate to discuss things?”

Q nodded and led the way out of his Mother's sitting room. “That won't do,” Hargreaves grumbled seeing the crowd gathered around the shed.

Q lengthened his stride heading for the crowd. A few noticed him and Q tried to shout but the quiet didn't fall over the crowd as a whole. Alec put his fingers in his mouth and blasted out a low-high-low note in a Boatswain's call. With the ear closest to Alec still ringing the man stooped down and hooked an arm around Q's knee, James on the other side doing the same. He was then hoisted up on the shoulders of the two men and towered over the crowd.

“I will keep this short. We have work to do, anyone looking for a job speak to him.” Q shouted and pointed to the senior carpenter, “Everyone else, please leave immediately.”

There was relief from the workers and the villagers and grumbles from the ones looking for a spectacle of some sort. Wives gossiped with relief, their husbands would be bringing home a regular wage again.

In the lab, Hargreaves and the rest sat around the central table. Q was raking through drawers and cabinets. A foreman, old enough to be Q's father stood at the doorway to the rest of the shed, ringing his hat nervously. “Admiral Hargreaves, James believed some of the older generation might wish a place to practice with powered vessels. Is that likely?”

“Yes it is my boy. I have a few candidates already, including myself.”

Eve entered with Vesper, they placed large trays of tea and coffee pots, cups and saucers down for those at the table.

“Thank you.”

The strange note in Colonel Mallory's voice drew Q's attention. The man gave Eve a soft smile as he took the coffee cup from her grasp and Eve returned the smile.

James offered to take the Admiral out on his launch. Vesper looked about, when she was last here she had been afraid to touch the papers and things she didn't understand, now she had the experience of being her brother's assistant and could see the unorganized mess the place was in. “Is this what you're looking for?”

Q looked at the bundle of plans nodding his thanks he took the ones that outlined the engine for James' launch. He stood by the man who was old enough to be his father, who’d taught him to wield a hammer to shape glowing metal. “Just an update on Commander Bond's launch, there will be a few refinements. Start on the firebox and boiler, the engine itself will need to be modified slightly,” Q mused and handed the man the plans to get the team started.

“Yes Sir,” the man said then correcting himself, “Your Lordship.”

“Quartermaster, ” Hargreaves corrected, then looked to Q, “It is the one common term that has come out of our conversations and correspondence, the one thing the Navy and Army can agree on, this endeavour is currently named, The Quartermaster's Branch.”


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to all those who read, left kudos and commented. 
> 
> Also to Dragon_Fire who proofread this and supplied the Isaac Newton quote for the title. Thank you.

Q wrapped his legs around James' waist and locked his ankles. His arms held tight around his lover’s neck as James moved in slow shallow thrusts. Q arched up lifting his back off the bed clinging to the man above him. James moved from kissing those dark swollen lips to the offered column of neck. Q rolled his hips down onto the cock stretching and moving inside him, his own arousal trapped between them.  
  
James lowered himself down taking the strain off his arms. Lifting one arm from the bed he wormed it between their bodies and around Q's weeping arousal. Pumping in time, with practice and experience they tumbled over the edge together.  
  
Collapsing on Q James rested his head on the other man's sweat dampened chest. Words of love were little more than mumbles in the post orgasmic haze. When James had recovered he lifted himself off Q, pressing his lips to Q's before parting.  
  
The green eyes raked over the long lines of the tanned back. James put a cloth into a basin in the corner of the room. He came back with the damp cloth, Q flinched no matter how hot the water started out as it was now quite cold. The mess was wiped from his stomach then Q rolled over. The cold cloth wiped down the crack of his arse, wiping away the oil and cum. At one time being wiped would have left him mortified but with James and with him being the cause of the mess Q arched his hips up to make it easier for the other man.  
  
When James returned, he held the pyjama bottoms up and Q lifted his legs for the other man to slip them onto him. There were times fear still tainted Q's heart but over the years with Villiers and a few other servants of a similar compulsion it didn't feel that there were eyes just waiting to get proof for blackmail or report him. There was a new reason James and Q no longer slept naked.  
  
James climbed in dressed in his pyjamas and Q rested his head on the broad chest. Giving a brief kiss to James' cheek before closing his eyes again. “Night love,” Q muttered.  
  
“May the morning come soon so I can see you again,” James returned.  
  
\--  
  
The door flew open with a loud bang. The two men in the bed started awake, James letting out a chuckle. “Morning has come,” he whispered then felt someone climb onto the bed and over them.  
  
Q cracked an eye open to a small dark haired, black eyed and pale skinned boy, taking very much after his mother. “Mummy says everyone has to be up before we can go down stairs,” Geoff whined and bounced a little on the two men.  
  
Q wrapped his arms about the boy and James slung an arm over Geoff and Q both. “Up!” the boy demanded and squirmed as the two men tried to hold him still.  
  
The boy named after Q's father was born out of wedlock to Vesper, one of her men having left but not leaving her alone. There had been quite an argument when Vesper figured out she was pregnant and told her mother. Q had acknowledged the boy as his ward and heir, leading to speculation he was the father, a rumour Q wasn't completely opposed to given the truth.  
  
Geoff squirmed out of Q's arms and dropped out of bed. “Please,” Geoff begged standing at the side of the bed, making his dark brown eyes as big as possible and sticking out a big bottom lip.  
  
James groaned, that look would make him do anything. “Go wake Alec and we'll meet on the stairs,” James said. With a happy squeal Geoff ran out. There was a hammering and bang as Geoff went to disturb Alec and Ben.  
  
James gave a quick kiss to Q and pushed himself up. Pulling on a long dressing gown and throwing the other at the bed. “Come on lazy bones.”  
  
James left Q to pull himself out of bed. Mallory coming out of his and Eve's room being dragged by a small wiry haired boy with darker complexion and eyes that were almost hazel. Eve carrying a girl, with the same wiry curls as her mother.  
  
James knocked on another guest room, where Hornblower and Archie were sleeping. He pushed the door open, the two men already pulling themselves out of bed.  
  
Looking into the wide open door of Alec's room. Ben was out of bed. Geoff bouncing on the covered mound with Alec's voice coming out of it, “I'm still asleep,” and let out a loud snore sound.  
  
“No, you're, not! No, you're, not!” Geoff sang in time to his bouncing. A wayward knee found a sensitive spot and a squawk came from the mound. Alec rolled out, carefully standing and gingerly cupping his pyjama covered crotch, wincing.  
  
“I'm up,” Alec hissed. Geoff shot out to join his mother and grandmother at the top of the stairs. He and his cousin bouncing in anticipation both whining and begging for the adults to hurry up.  
  
The two boys rushed on when everyone was out of their rooms. They charged into the drawing room when Severine called, “Wait for everyone,” she told her grandchildren.  
  
“Who will be Santa?” Severine mused coming into the drawing room and sat. The two boys wide eyed and looking at the large mound of presents.  
  
Geoff pointed and said, “Uncle James.”  
  
James moved forward sitting down beside the small pine tree with paper chains, glass balls and the snuffed out candles. James picked up the first present in red tissue paper and gold ribbon. James read out the tag and handed it to Geoff for him to deliver it to Archie. James read the next tag of a green present and handed it to Killian for delivery to Ben.  
  
Eventually James came to a long blue tissue covered present. “Now who is Geoffrey Boothroyd?”  
  
“Me,” Geoff said waving a hand in the air.  
  
“Are you sure? I thought you were called Geoff,” James teased then relented when Geoff stuck out a pouting lip.  He sat down in the middle of the room and ripped the paper off pulling out the toy gun. He stuffed the cork in the end and pulled the trigger. Q then told him how it worked and on the next try the cork made a pop. Killian was in the middle of tearing open his own long present to find a similar gun.  
  
Having been abandoned by his elves James conscripted Alec into passing out the remaining gifts.  
  
\--  
  
Everyone was winding down after the Christmas luncheon. The women sat on the chairs and settees, chatting. Eve held the youngest of her two children. The proud grandmother cooed over the deeply tanned skin and tight curly black haired girl, a chubby hand grasping a long finger.  
  
Vesper was sitting back watching the men at the other end of the room. Most had pulled the ties from their necks and opened their waistcoats to help with the bloating after the big meal. Alec stood in a corner with the shorter Ben resting against him looking down on the open area of floor. Hornblower and Archie were on chairs looking down on the approaching spectacle. She could only see the ones sitting in the chairs or standing, those on the floor were mostly hidden.  
  
Q sat on the floor beside a large oval track taking up a good portion of the open space fiddling with a toy, not a direct gift to anyone just something to see and marvel over.  
  
James was on his side, lying behind the settee, his hands full. One arm propping him up and holding a cigar, a cut glass with whisky in it on the floor. The other arm wrapped round the middle of Geoff. Again James stopped the boy from crossing the railway track that had been laid out, to go to Q while he prepared the model train.  
  
Mallory was to the side, kneeling with his eldest standing between his legs. The man hugging his son as much as restraining him from seeing what his uncle Q was up to.  
  
Q placed the locomotive on the track. Ben broke out of Alec's arms, lighting a taper at the fire he brought the long narrow candle over to Q. Q took the taper bringing the flame to the little paraffin burner inside the cab of the model. Lighting the wick and pushing the burner in Q then handed the taper back to Ben. Q sat back and everyone waited with baited breath.  
  
“Boys and their toys,” Severine muttered as she looked at the crowd waiting in anticipation.  The little locomotive started to hiss.  
  
James chuckled as the boy in his arms wanted to break free and have a closer look. The boy in Mallory's arms had a rather unhappy down turn on his mouth at the hissing and steaming thing on the track.  
  
Q reached out a long delicate finger and tapped the back of the locomotive. The nudge got the engine moving and the locomotive shot off, hissing and clattering. The boy in Mallory's arms turned and tried to climb over his father to get away. The boy in James' arm bounced and tried to get so close to the track to see the wheezing puffing model flying around it.  
  
Just as Mallory's son was calming down the train flew off the track, the boy ran to his mother. Q jumped up, the burner falling out. Mallory about to throw his drink over the flame before he realised whisky wouldn't make a good extinguisher. Alec picked a flowerpot out of the ornamental planter turning the porcelain bowl upside down and over the paraffin burner like a giant candle snuff.  
  
“Have you finished trying to burn the house down?” Severine snapped.  
  
“Yes mother,” the group of men parroted in unison and sent each other unrepentant smirks.  
  
Eve consoled the boy with one arm while still holding the young girl. “I think that is enough excitement. Nursery to calm and then to bed,” she announced and got agreement from Vesper.  
  
Little Geoff turned in James arms and wrapped his around James' neck, giving the rough cheek a kiss. He then crossed over and Q got hug and a kiss too. He looked to his other uncles and gave a pleasant, “Good night.” Finally he went to his mother and gave her a kiss too.  
  
Killian kissed his father then joined his cousin at the door. Both turned back to the room and gave another good night to all and left, Eve followed carrying her daughter.  
  
Q pulled up the flower planter and gave it to Alec who replaced it and put the plant and pot back inside. Q looked at the scorch mark on the wooden floor. “A little stain and polish and it will... still be burnt,” he mused.  
  
“Men and toys,” Severine muttered again.  
  
\--  
  
Q, James and Mallory entered the nursery to the two boys in their small beds and a cot with the girl, the toddler already asleep.  
  
Q sat at the edge of Geoff's bed. The boy pulled out a book and Q took it, pitching his voice soft and low Q started reading. One yawn, then drooping eyes followed by another yawn. As Q put the book down Geoff wanted him to continue. “Tomorrow,” Q promised and kissed his brow.  
  
They snuffed out the lamps and closed the door.  
  
\--  
  
Climbing into bed Q straddled James, already feeling the swell of the other man's arousal against the crease of his buttocks. Q ran his fingers over the tanned chest he knew almost as well as his own. Leaning down he pressed his lips to his love's.  
  
Between kisses and the entwining of bodies soft wards of love were spoken until they collapsed spent and stated. The chances of being woken up by a child charging into their room was less likely on boxing day but James and Q cleaned and dress in pyjamas anyway. As far as Geoff was concerned Q and James were every bit the parent Vesper was and had a habit of just coming in to the room if he wanted to speak or show something off. They didn't hide that they shared a bed but made sure they were decent if he came in.    
  
\--  
  
James' eyes snapped open. The snick of the door was almost silent as were the soft padding of feet. Shrieking, James jumped from the bed, dancing trying to get the cold wet thing from his back.  
  
Q sat up, bleary eyed with his hair sticking up. James still danced with one hand down the back of his collar and the other up the bottom of his pyjama top. James then took off bare foot, not even grabbing his dressing gown.  
  
Q pulled on his dressing gown and picked up James' following at a more sedate pace, he noticed Mallory's and Alec's doors were also open,  Eve still in bed.  
  
Q came to the rear parlour with a door out onto the back gardens. Killian and Geoff were behind a built up wall of snow. James in his striped pyjamas, Alec pale blue and Mallory in red satin with gold piping. The three adults lobbing snow balls behind the protective wall.  
  
Q enjoyed watching the play before he reluctantly clapped his hands, “NO, NO, NO. James, Alec and Gareth you need proper clothes and it is very dishonourable to launch an attack without declaring war.”  
  
“Yes uncle Q,” they called in unison as the adults traipsed back inside like scolded school boys.  
  
Q then watched Killian and Geoff starting to roll a ball, the beginnings of another snow man to add to the growing family. An arm came around Q's waist and rough cheek rubbed against his. James and Q watched the boys a moment. In a roundabout way James had achieved what he had always dreamed of and with a kiss to Q's cheek, “I'm so happy I met you.“


End file.
